Bad Beat
by Melda Burke
Summary: Betty 'Bet' Stillwater isn't exactly what you'd call badass; she's insecure, she's better off wielding the written word than guns, she's never been outside of Vault 81, she's only good at making moonshine and she's allergic to nearly every chem under the sun. So, yeah, she's kind of a loser, but she's determined to help make the world above into a better place piece by piece.
1. Chapter 1

Nora breathed a sigh of pure relief when Austin finally woke up from his coma. Hancock couldn't help noticing her pale and pained expression as she watched the young boy reunite with his adoptive mother. He averted his eyes before she caught him watching her; she was normally able to hide her pain pretty well. However, it was always the kids that re-opened the raw wounds of her past. It was the same when they'd helped that ghoul kid Billy find his parents. The same heart-wrenching, gut-rending, agonized longing had crossed her face.

As her friend, Hancock felt like a failure. He'd spent the past year with her, and everyone's favorite detective Nick Valentine, hunting down the Institute to get her the revenge she deserved as well as trying to rescue her son. Instead of a ten-year-old boy, they found a bitter, brainwashed, old man who barely cared a wit for the mother who'd crisscrossed the Commonwealth in search of him. He was there with Nora when she decided to take the child synth to Doctor Amari to have his memories wiped. He helped her find a good set of adoptive parents through the Railroad. He'd been there with her when she nearly gave herself alcohol poisoning. Hancock and Nick had taken turns to make sure she didn't aspirate her own vomit that night; all the while listening to her heartbroken sobs.

He was brought back to the present by several cheers from the onlookers by the door of the clinic. He wasn't sure when they'd shown up, but somehow it seemed like the entirety of Vault 81 knew within a few minutes that Austin was alive because of Nora's bravery. The overseer even gave her an honorary home in the vault and so many people came up to her with awed looks or amazed compliments. Hell, the resident chem head even pledged to get clean because she agreed to clean up the mess he started. He knew Nora hadn't been looking for fans, but now she had a whole vault full of admirers. While she mostly remained strictly polite with the adoring adults, she was sweeter with the children. She even agreed to tell a few stories to the kids while they were in class.

They came out of the classroom and Nora was obviously looking forward to a hot bath, and then sleeping in an actual bed for once. Except there was one problem; a young woman was standing in the hallway. She snapped to attention at their approach and a nervous smile stretched across her face. "H-hi, my name's Betty Stillwater. My grandparents run the cafeteria…um…they told me all about what you did for Austin and I wanted to say…you know…thanks." She bit her lip and looked down at her shoes.

Nora, in an effort to remain polite when all she wanted to really do was tell the girl to go away, put on a tiny smile. "I'm just happy Austin is going to be fine. It was nice to meet you, Betty." She made to turn away.

The young lady straightened up her shoulders and reached out in Nora's direction. "Wait!" She blushed when she realized that she'd accidentally yelled at Nora. "I…I mean, _please wait_. You're from the surface and I've always wanted to see what it's like up there." She rushed through an explanation of how she'd begged and begged her grandparents to let her go ever since she'd turned eighteen, but they had always refused. "They always said 'no'…until today." She took in a deep breath. "They said that if you agreed to take me with you…well, they said they trust you more than any old caravan hand and if I could convince you to take me with you-"

Nora interrupted her with a sigh. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but…" She looked Betty up and down with a critical eye. Betty was scrawny; only about five feet tall with a very slight build and almost no muscle. Her absurdly wild, chestnut-brown hair was held out of her face by two thin side braids that met at the back of her head. Her hands were tiny and weren't calloused by hard work or the rough grip of a gun. Nora doubted the girl had ever even seen a gun in person, much less held one, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I've got a lot on my plate right now. I just met someone who has already asked me to take her along. She doesn't have any combat experience, either, and I can't watch your back, her back, and my own all at the same time."

Betty shook her head. "I understand! I promise that I absolutely do! J-just hear me out, okay?" She pulled out a decent sized pouch of caps. "I've saved up enough caps to buy myself a gun and plenty of ammo from Cricket. I know she's camped outside the vault right now. All I'm asking is that you just walk with me until we're out of sight of the vault and then I'll leave you alone, I promise!"

Nora tilted her head to the side. "Why do you want to leave so badly? It's really dangerous out there, honestly, you're so much better off staying put."

Betty's mouth snapped shut, she averted her gaze, and several seconds passed before she replied. "It's not important." She rubbed her eyes and glared at the floor. "Please, this is my _one_ chance. I promise I won't be a problem. You don't even have to see me again after we leave." She lifted her eyes up from the floor and pinned Nora with a pleading look. "I'm not totally useless. I've read tons of Guns and Bullets magazines and every book on survival that I could afford. I know how to build myself a shelter and how to boil water to clean it. I've asked every caravan to describe the edible plants they know of and how to recognize radiation poisoning. I have a small stockpile of Rad-X, Rad-Away, and a handful of stimpacks. I know how to properly clean and re-assemble most types of guns and I've memorized which ammo types go with which guns."

"Reading about something is easy." Nora tried to explain gently. "Applying what you know about the functionality of a gun is not going to be easy when you get into your first gunfight. Have you ever even held a gun before?" Betty remained silent. "That's exactly what I mean." The ex-lawyer sighed heavily again. "Try to see it from my point of view, what happens when I drop by here next time and I have to explain that I have no idea where the hell you've gone off to? Your grandparents are going to think you're dead and what do you think that will do to them?"

Hancock, who had been observing the conversation with mild interest, spoke up. "She can come with me." In his mind, he was helping his friend out. She'd already agreed to take the Miss Nanny bot with her and it was dangerous to travel around the Commonwealth in groups larger than two. Nora caught his eye. "I need to head back to Goodneighbor anyway." He smirked. "Mayoral duties and crap like that tend to pile up after a while. We'll hit the road first thing tomorrow as one big group and then split up after we're outta sight."

Nora crossed her arms. "Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "Wouldn't have offered if I weren't, Sunshine." He arched a non-existent eyebrow at Betty. "Unless she has a problem travellin' with a ghoul."

Betty shook her head vigorously. "No, no! Of course not, I…mean…it's perfectly fine with me." Her eyes were filled with hope and she smiled weakly up at him. "You seem alright. I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name?"

He extended his hand out and was surprised that she managed to give him a decently firm handshake; he'd been expecting a limp-wristed greeting from her frail hands. "Call me Hancock, sweetheart." He winked at her to put her at ease, but she merely froze and blushed hard before quickly dropping his hand.

"I…I…know I said my name's Betty, but I really hate my name." She confessed to them both. "Can you please call me Bet instead? It's what my dad used to call me." The memory brought a small smile back to her face.

"Sure thing, but it's getting late." Hancock smoothly maneuvered the conversation to an end. "We've kinda had a long day. We'll meet ya tomorrow at the vault door at…ten?" He glanced over at Nora for confirmation and she nodded. "Right, we'll meet ya at ten tomorrow morning."

The next day couldn't come soon enough for Bet. She was there twenty minutes early with a huge pack of supplies. Hancock had to bite back a laugh when he saw her; she looked like a turtle he'd seen in a pre-War book back when he was a kid. She waddled up to them with a wide, eager grin and one could practically feel the energy rolling off of her. Nora stopped herself from letting a dismayed groan escape her throat. She'd hoped their tag-along would lose heart and not show up, but here she was.

"Thanks so much." She said graciously to her new friends. Her grandparents appeared behind her and she hugged them both. "I love you." Her eyes were wet when she drew back. Her grandfather grasped her grandmother's hand tightly as they waved goodbye.

They met with Cricket almost immediately because she was quite literally kneeling just outside the entrance of Vault 81. Her glazed eyes went wild as Bet approached her cautiously. "You…you were asking about a gun last week, weren't ya?" She spoke quickly and dug into her pack. "I've got something special for ya…" She said in a sing-song voice. She pulled out a .10mm pistol with a silencer. "It's modded for a higher damage output despite the lessened range due to the silencer. It's a great beginner's gun…so small and adorable…" She caressed the metal of the barrel lovingly. "Only 110 caps! It's practically a steal!"

An uneasy expression crossed Bet's features. That was a fifth of her entire life savings! Plus, she'd still have to buy bullets, too. "Is there anything…cheaper?"

Cricket sensed that she was losing the sale and immediately jumped into action. "Not so fast, sweetie! I'll sweeten the deal with a free combat knife! Oh, and a discount on the bullets! C'mon, can't you hear her calling out to you?" She petted the gun in her hands with a broad smile.

Bet reluctantly reached for her money pouch made of mole rat hide and emptied out the amount, plus an extra 50 for 100 bullets, into Cricket's outstretched palm. She took the gun and attached the holster to her belt. The bullets went into her pocket, while the knife made its home in her right combat boot. As they walked away, she pulled the gun out to examine it. "How much you wanna bet she has a gun fetish?" She attempted to joke.

Nora rolled her eyes and ignored the comment. "Be careful with that thing." She warned her. "I don't feel like digging a bullet out of your leg."

The four walked in silence; the only noise was the metallic clicks and whirrs coming from Curie. It wasn't until the road diverged that the group paused. Hancock clapped Nora on the shoulder. "End of the line, I guess." He pulled out a cigarette from within his coat and lit it up. "You stay cool, Sunshine."

She nodded solemnly and mumbled under her breath. "Don't let her get you killed."

He grinned widely. "Aw, you know me better than that." He lowered his voice to be sure that only she could hear him. "Also, try to have a little more faith in the girl. Sure, she's green, but you weren't even this short with Travis. Is somethin' buggin' ya?"

She ran a hand irritably through her short, black curls. "I dunno, she's just a kid. She's got no business wandering around out here. She's liable to get herself killed." Her shoulders slumped with the weight of her burden. "I don't want to be responsible for that." She whispered.

He squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Hey, don't worry. I'll show 'er the ropes. We'll be fine; the worst between here and Goodneighbor are a couple of wild mutts, mole rats, and mirelurks. I'll send ya a letter with the next caravan that passes through town, yeah?" She nodded and sighed as he put out his smoke with the heel of his boot. "Keep smilin', Sunshine. It makes the world a bit brighter." He tipped his tri-corn at Curie before setting off at a confident pace.

Bet struggled to keep up with his long strides; a single step for him was two steps for her. She wasn't exactly sure what to say to fill the awkward silence between them. "So, how long have you two been together?"

He cast an amused glance at her. "Really? That's the first thing yer gonna ask me? You don't ask how I became a ghoul or why I'm dressed up like a pirate."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "That would be rude."

He chuckled at that. "Yeah, I guess it would. To answer yer question, we aren't a thing. We're just really good friends. What about you?" He pulled out his mentats tin and popped a grape one in his mouth. "You got a man? Or a girl?"

She scratched the back of her neck uncomfortably. "I used to. He…he decided that I wasn't what he wanted." She pushed her hands into her pockets and her head drooped a little.

"Huh, sorry about that, sister." He noticed her newly dour mood. "I'm guessin' that's why ya wanted outta the vault quick, fast, an' in a hurry?" Her barely perceptible nod confirmed his suspicions. He nudged her arm with the tin in hand. "Somethin' to lighten the day?"

She shook her head. "That's nice of you, but I can't. I'm allergic to chems." Her eyes were still sad, but he found an aspect of conversation to steer her away from the mood he'd accidentally put her in.

"No kiddin'? All of 'em?" He tucked the tin back into his coat pocket. "Rad-X and Rad-Away, too?" She nodded with a sheepish air. "Stimpacks?" She nodded again and he sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Damn, how do ya plan on survivin' out here?"

"I...wasn't." Her reply nearly stopped him in his tracks.

"What?" He said sharply. Did she really mean what he thought she meant?

She quickly backtracked. "I wasn't just going to give up. I wanted to die out here…fighting. I was dying in the vault, too…it was just so much slower. Every time I saw him…" She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not a strong person; physically or emotionally, but I wanted to do _something_ to prove I can do things." She searched for the right words to explain it. "I want to feel proud about myself."

He scoffed to himself; figures. _Of course_ the person Nora had an interest in keep alive would have a death wish. "So why'd ya bring the chems if ya can't take 'em?"

She smiled ruefully. "I'm not _deathly_ allergic. I break out in hives, sometimes my face gets puffy, and my throat gets tight. The doctor said that if I take too much at the wrong time…I could possibly have a stronger reaction." She kicked a pebble across the road and watched it ricochet off of a broken guardrail. "I'm going to give surviving out here an honest go, but I'm not too upset by the idea of dying."

He shrugged. "That's your prerogative, babe. No judgment from me, but…" He shifted a little to face her while they walked. "Ya want my opinion?"

"Um…sure." She said hesitantly.

He stared her straight in the eye; coal-black meeting pine-green. "Fuck 'im. You ain't good enough for him? Find someone else. There's _always_ someone else, trust me. I mean, I still get a piece of ass now and again, and look at me!" He gestured to himself with a self-deprecating grin. "I look like a slab of old, half-chewed jerky. It's all in the style, babe. Ya talk the talk and ya walk the walk…you'll have guys queuing up to have a chance with ya."

She frowned. "You shouldn't talk like that about yourself."

He raised an eyebrow. " _You_ shouldn't be 'okay with dying'. You're only…wait, how old are you again?"

She gave him a half-hearted smile. "Would you believe I'm 25?" Her cousins had always called her a runt and teased her about having a baby-face.

"No, no, I wouldn't." He peered closely at her. "Coulda swore you were barely nineteen. Hell, you're older than Nora by a year." Technically speaking, of course, since one should take into consideration that Nora was actually pushing 285.

She focused her eyes on the ground. "Yeah, I'm kind of a runt. It's the height and the baby-face." She chanced a glance back at him. "It's harder to tell for you…ghouls are kind of…ageless, right?"

He scuffed his boots along the broken concrete. "Somethin' like that, but I'm only 36." He stretched in the sun like a cat, his thin body arching up, his bones cracked a bit and he laughed. "Man, sayin' it out loud makes me feel old." All of a sudden, the sound of twigs breaking caught his attention and he swung out an arm to stop her.

"Hancock?" He immediately shushed her and listened hard. He motioned for her to follow him off the road and into the brush. Her shaking hand went to her gun, but she waited to pull it out until he had ascertained the threat.

Hancock squinted into the distance and strained his hearing. It sounded like humans stomping around; probably raiders, ferals or scavvers. Hopefully, it wasn't ferals. He sniffed the air because one could usually smell a feral before one managed to see it. The sounds were clearer now; they were closer and it was definitely humans.

"-Swear I heard voices, Zain. Could it be a caravan?" Hancock's eyes narrowed to slits. He despised raiders. He slipped his gun off his back, loaded, and cocked it. Following his lead, Bet hastily loaded up a clip into her pistol.

"Shuddup, didya hear that?" Two burly raiders plodded up the hill and within sight of their hiding spot. The pair of goons was packing pipe pistols. Above them, a crow took flight from a branch and the noise spooked one and he let off a shot.

The gruffer of the two grabbed the other's shoulder and shook him. "Damn it, Pete! You nearly took my head off!" He snarled. He stared hard straight ahead. "Hey! We know yer out there! Come out and we'll take it easy on ya! Just give us yer shit and we'll let ya live."

Hancock knew he could manage a couple of lousy raiders by himself, but Bet was a different story. She was pale as a ghost and her hands were shaking. He turned his attention back to the raider scouts. She wasn't ready. "I'll make a distraction and you take off." He murmured to her.

"I'm not leaving you." She hissed back.

"I can handle it." He assured her calmly. He swung himself over the destroyed guardrail and confronted the pair. "How's it goin'?" He quipped as he bashed the bigger one, Zain, in the face with the butt of his gun. He hooked his foot behind the guy's leg to trip him and unloaded both shots into the raider's body.

He'd underestimated how close the other raider was to him and, before he had time to jump out of the way, the raider tackled him and had his pipe pistol right in Hancock's face. A quiet series of pops rang through the air and, suddenly, the raider was howling in pain and clutching at his shoulder. It gave Hancock the opportunity he needed to shove the bastard off him and re-load. He finished the raider off with a shell to the face. He turned on his heel to see her standing there, pale and sweating, and looking like she was about to puke.

"Hey, look who's the hero?" He grinned casually, as if he had _not_ almost died. "Nice shot, babe." She was still not moving, but the gun dropped from her hand. She stared, wide-eyed at the bodies, and then promptly fainted. Hancock clicked his tongue. "Well, shit."

When she regained consciousness a few minutes later, she woke up with a hell of a headache. She'd smacked her head off the broken concrete when she hit the ground. Everything was a little blurry at first, but that cleared up after she had blinked a few times. She groaned as a particularly harsh throb of pain made her stomach roll. "Wha…what…happened?"

Hancock had placed her back in the bushes and was patting her head carefully with a piece of wet cloth. "You fainted." He said with a teasing glint in his black eyes. "After it took ya about four shots to hit the raider who had me pinned, but, hey, I'm still alive." She tried to sit up, but he firmly pushed her back down. "No dice, sweetheart. Pretty sure you've got a concussion. We've got two choices; use a stimpack or wait here until you can walk."

"Stimpack." She mumbled. If only her stomach would stop trying to push its way up her throat, maybe she could concentrate better.

He pulled a stimpack from her pack, but stopped to give her a chance to change her mind. "You sure?" She nodded wearily and he pushed the thick needle into her thigh without another moment of hesitation. She gasped at the slight pain and almost fell back. He had to catch her to keep her from hitting her head again.

She closed her eyes and he thought she might have fallen unconscious again. When she finally opened her eyes again she no longer seemed dazed. She asked him for a can of purified water, which he happily obliged, and she chugged the whole thing. A couple of minutes later and Hancock could see red welts appearing on her skin. They dotted the backs of her hands and ran all the way up to her shoulders. The small exposed area of her neck above the collar of her shirt was also dotted with the cherry-red marks. She was having a little trouble breathing, but she was able to get back on her feet. She reached for her pack, but he snatched it up before she had the chance.

They set off again, but now it was nearing sunset and they were still hours away from Goodneighbor. Hancock reached into his pocket and pushed a handful of caps into her hands. "I got it off the guy you shot." He told her. "Ya earned it."

She smiled at him and thanked him as she placed the money in her pouch. She couldn't believe she'd actually shot someone. She snuck a glance over at Hancock and wondered how many people he'd had to shoot in his lifetime. He seemed pretty comfortable with defending himself and she was reminded of the ease with which he'd taken down the bigger raider. That raider must have outweighed him by a good two hundred pounds, but Hancock had him down and out in the blink of an eye. "Hancock?"

"Eh?" He shifted the heavy pack on his back so he could see her.

She chewed the corner of her lip anxiously. "Have you killed a lot of people?"

"Depends." He replied with nonchalance in his tone.

"On what?" She asked.

"Your definition of 'a lot'. Some would say ten people is a lot, but others would say it's more like fifty plus is a lot."

"Oh…um…more than fifty?" She decided that halfway to a hundred was quite a lot.

"I guess I've killed a lot of people, then." He chuckled darkly to himself. Funny, he'd never really enjoyed killing all that much. It was just that he tended to run into a massive number of assholes who deserved it and he was more than willing to kill anyone who deserved it. He realized that she was staring at him in horror. Did she think he was a monster?

"I…I'm sorry you had to kill so much. It must be awful." She touched the grip of her gun. "I didn't even really kill that guy back there, but before I fainted I felt so terrible because I had just hurt another _person_ -"

"Raiders aren't people." He growled back. "They enjoy killing and hurting people. They bully innocent people who can't or won't defend themselves. They're disgusting." He realized that she'd only been trying to sympathize and there'd been no need to snap at her. "Sorry."

She fiddled with the buckle on her holster. "It's okay." She looked up at the stars to take her mind off the unsettling topic. She'd never seen the stars before and the beauty of the night sky took her breath away. It was like someone had taken a pin and pricked tiny holes in random patterns on a giant, black, blanket. It was smeared with color; blues, oranges, whites, and pinks. "I never thought it would be so beautiful." She said to herself. She'd always been taught that the outside world was drab, dirty, and undeniably ugly. Yet, this was the most amazing sight she had ever witnessed. The scent of the air was fresh and clean. The trees, although they were mostly dead, made for a detailed skyline. If she tried hard she could even see tiny shapes and faces in the bark and branches.

He watched her take in the sky as she walked and couldn't restrain a chortle when she stumbled over a rock because her eyes were locked on the stars. The second time she stumbled he had to catch her by her belt before she face-planted. "Whoa, be careful." He said as he steadied her.

She blushed and stammered out her thanks. A thought occurred to her out of the blue and she blurted it out to him. "What am I going to do once we get to Goodneighbor?" She looked at him with suddenly anxious eyes. "I don't really have any marketable talents…how will I get a job?" She appeared mortified. "I don't have enough caps to make it more than a couple of months! I-"

"You'll be fine." He reassured her. "You can do odd jobs for me or KLE-0 or Daisy or even Charlie."

"Where will I _live_?" She inquired worriedly. "I can't afford to rent a room every day."

He'd never met someone who was strung tighter than this poor young woman in his entire life. " _Relax_ , babe. If you can't afford the Rexford, you can couch-surf at my place…well, actually there is one place open." He mentioned as an afterthought. "It used to belong to some asshole who thought he could pull shit in my town, but he's…gone." He didn't think it'd be wise to tell her the story just yet, maybe he'd leave that to Nora. "Anyway, it's pretty cheap to buy. It's only 2,000 caps."

"I…I'd hate to impose." She couldn't look at him because of the sheer weight of embarrassment. She'd never even witnessed that many caps exchanging hands before and for him to refer to that price as _cheap_? She began to wonder who exactly she was traveling with. She'd already decided that she couldn't allow him to baby her; she would sooner buy a sleeping bag or a mattress and sleep in some gosh-forsaken alley before she made herself a nuisance to this man.


	2. Chapter 2

Downtown Boston was quiet in the mornings and Hancock was grateful for the lack of excitement beyond their encounter with the raiders. Somehow, they even managed to escape the notice of a couple of hungry-looking mongrels hanging out near a heap of trash only yards from the entrance to Goodneighbor. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a trouble-free trip across the 'Wealth.

The neon signs glowed faintly in the dim light of dawn and reflected off of the mostly rusted corrugated metal sheeting that made up the majority of the entrance. Her eyes landed first on the ammunition and provisions shops. An assaultron was handing over a huge gun to an enthusiastic, spastic ghoul who sped off almost immediately. Next door, a female ghoul was cleaning the counter of her shop with an expression that read 'bored to death'. As they made their way deeper into town someone called out a greeting to Hancock, who acknowledged it with a cheeky grin and a tip of his tricorn.

A group of what appeared to be guards roamed the streets. They were nearly all ghouls, dressed in suits with matching fedoras, and touting tarnished tommy guns. Curious stares and hushed whispers accompanied them as they walked. "Kill or Be Killed?" She read aloud from the neon sign winking back at her.

"You'll have plenty of time for a tour tomorrow." He winked at her. He wound his way through the thin crowd to the stall that was being manned by the female ghoul. "How's the prettiest ghoul in Goodneighbor?"

Daisy leaned forward with her palms steady on her counter. "Hancock, you old flirt, good to see ya." Her voice was coarse on the ears, but motherly in tone. "What can I get ya?" Her curious gaze landed on Bet, who had hidden behind Hancock. "Who's this?"

Hancock hauled Bet forward and clapped an arm around her shoulders. "One of Nora's strays." Humor colored his tone, but his firm grip on her disallowed her subtle attempt at retreat. "Vaultie, too."

Daisy examined her with an intense stare. She cocked her head the side. "Shy, hun? Is it the face? Don't worry, I promise I won't take a bite outta ya, sister." She snickered at Bet's horrified protests against that being the case.

The young woman was blushing deeply and stuttering until she managed to force out her words. "No, I swear that isn't it. I..I would never…I mean I'm just really bad at talking to people." She sighed. "Honestly, I'm not that great with people in general."

"It's all good." Daisy waved her hand dismissively.

"We're headin' up to the Third Rail in a bit to drop by Magnolia's blowout." Hancock explained. "I was hopin' you'd have somethin' special for her." Daisy reached beneath her shop counter and withdrew a stack of clothing. Bet's eyes went wide with confusion and he smirked. "Guess I forgot to tell ya about that. My bad, babe. Pick somethin' out on me." He honestly wanted her to have a good time in his town. For no reason he could articulate, he found himself wishing his new protégé would like Goodneighbor well enough to stay.

"Dresses, right? Ya seem like a dress girl." Bet nodded as she looked through her options. Her hands hesitated on a midnight blue sequined number, but she passed over it. A beautiful dress like that was too extravagant. Instead, she chose a modest cream-colored dress. She could acknowledge that it was a bit prudish, but a combination of bashfulness and wallflower syndrome forced her hand.

It wasn't terribly expensive to add a pair of matching heels. Thankfully, they were not stilettos, but the heels were still pretty thin. Altogether, it took up about fifty caps. Hancock led the way into the State House through a side door. Guards were stationed every few feet inside the place, but the most heavily armored one was leaning by an open door with a lit cigarette pinched between her fingers. She put it out in a nearby ashtray and followed them inside. "Who's the new chick?" She scowled down at Bet with eyes that could pierce souls.

Bet swallowed hard and offered her hand to the bigger woman. She was mentally begging the woman not to eat her. "M-my name's B-bet…n-nice to meet you."

Hancock's raspy laugh surprised her bad enough to make her jump. "No need to scare the bejeezus outta the new girl, Fahre." He elbowed Fahrenheit playfully. "She needs a place to stay, so she's sleepin' here for the night." Bet tried to protest it, but he pretended not to hear a word she said until she gave up. Not only had he bought her a new set of clothes for practically no reason, he'd just opened up his home to her. Bet had never before met anyone who'd do such a thing for a complete stranger. He heaved her pack onto the floor and took off his own bag of supplies. "Go ahead and relax. You'll need to get some sleep before we head down to The Third Rail tonight."

He motioned for her to sit down. "You really don't have to-" She began, but he cut her off.

"I know I don't _have_ to." He popped a berry mentat in his mouth, the first he'd had in several hours, and closed his eyes to relax. "I don't hear you relaxing, sweetheart." He crooned from the other side of the room.

She sat down on the worn, yet clean, couch. "Why are you doing this for me?" She panicked when he opened his eyes a smidge to lazily observe her. "I mean, I'm grateful, but I've never met anyone who would-"

He turned over onto his side to face her whilst remaining reclined on the couch. He propped his head up with his hand. "Look, I did it as a favor to Nora. She's a good friend and I owe her a lot. Now that I've seen you're at least somewhat capable of handling yourself, I'm not unwilling to help give you a leg up." He saw her cringe and decided it was best to elaborate before he scared her off. "Not charity, babe. No, you're smart, and I can see that. I'm letting you stay here until ya find your niche." He watched her react to this piece of news and was surprised when her face lit up; he'd expected her to back down.

"Really?" She bit her lip and appeared indecisive. "I don't want to bother you."

He waved away her concerns. "It would take something pretty shitty to bother me." He smiled deviously at her. "Or some really loud sex…but only if I can't join in." She reddened, but she couldn't break eye contact with him. There was something about the way his eyes glittered whenever he was teasing her that was rather entrancing. He looked away first to grab a beer and chuck it at her. "You can drink, right?"

She studied it curiously and then grinned back at him. "Like a fish." It took him by surprise to see her spring a bottle opener from her pocket to expertly pry open the bottle. She took one sip and winced. It was godawful, but she forced herself to not gag. She chugged the rest of it as quickly as she could to avoid actually tasting it. She couldn't help longing for her grandad's awesome flavored moonshine instead of gulping down something that tasted like the alcoholic equivalent of Brahmin piss.

Over the course of the day, they learned a little more about each other. She told him a little about the incident that had finally convinced her that leaving the vault was the best thing for her. She could only bring herself to give a summary of what had happened and the entire time she had this abandoned puppy-dog expression that made him really want to punch something. "It was my fault, honestly." She admitted with a voice full of self-loathing. "Every time I'd see him with another girl…I'd worry that I wasn't good enough for him anymore. I'd make myself sick over it at times. I really think that's what drove us apart. He wasn't completely innocent because he loved flirting with other girls to make me jealous, but I think we weren't very good together in general." She sighed wistfully. "In any case, it still hurts so much because we'd been with each other for several years. I wasn't used to living without him in my life." She gritted her teeth. "I guess I'm still trying to adjust to life without him, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try."

He wasn't so great at relationship advice, so he mostly just kept his trap shut and listened. After all, he'd spent the majority of his younger days breaking hearts and chasing tail, and after becoming a ghoul, his sexual prospects dried up right along with his skin. Sure, his charisma charmed a few here and there into his bed and there were others who had simply been curious, but he definitely hadn't enjoyed much of a love life in a couple of years. He told her a few scant details about himself to fill in the gaps of conversation; he used to live in Diamond City and he'd only been a ghoul for a decade. It was all minor stuff, but she didn't seem to mind.

The day passed quickly and, before either one realized how much time had passed, the sun had set. Hancock got up from the couch and stretched. "We should head out soon. You can change in here, but no promises that I won't peek." He smirked and turned his back to her.

After she was finished changing, he led her back out the side door and straight into the town square. A guard stood just outside the door to the bar which had formerly been the Boston State House Station. Aghast, Bet found herself greatly impressed by the innovation of the people post-War.

Another ghoul guard greeted them on their way down. "The Third Rail is welcome to all newcomers." He said to her gruffly.

Upon beginning their descent into the bar, Bet caught a strong whiff of cheap perfume, cigarettes, and homemade booze. It wasn't half bad if you ignored the mild undercurrent of body odor and vomit. A sultry voice cut through the haze of smoke and jet fumes, and she noticed a beautiful woman swaying to the sound of the music and her own voice. The lady, who was done up in a sequined blood-red dress, had a kind of beauty that could only be described as hypnotic. Her eyes lingered on the woman's bare legs and delicate feet slipped into matching sequined ballet flats. She tapped Hancock's shoulder to get his attention. "Who's that?"

"Magnolia, the Third Rail's most beautiful flower." He followed Bet's appreciative gaze. "Hmm, I hadn't pinned ya as batting for the same team." He commented with a bit of surprise.

The young woman froze and glanced quickly away. "I'm bisexual, actually. Is that a problem here?" She was very much used to disapproval in her old life, but she had hoped that things would be different up here.

"Fuck, no." He clapped her on the shoulder. "That's your business." He gave her a little push towards the stage. "Don't be a wallflower, go over there and ask her if you can buy her a drink." In the meantime, he settled himself onto a sagging black couch to make casual conversation with a couple of fellow junkies.

Bet hesitated and bit her lip. Flirting and dating had never come very easy, especially back in the vault. People used to make very harsh judgments about your character if they learned you weren't a cookie-cutter specimen. She couldn't help, but worry even with Hancock's reassurance that the Commonwealth was not as concerned with anyone's sex life as people had been in Vault 81. A glance over at her mayoral acquaintance was rewarded with an encouraging hand gesture. Flustered, she made up her mind to just do it.

Magnolia was hitting up the Mr. Handy who worked the bar. She looked up at Bet, who was suddenly very aware that she hadn't had any semblance of a bath for days. "Um…hi." She said a little too brightly, wincing at the high, nervous pitch in her voice. "I..uh..heard you singing. It was beautiful." She waved over the bartender. "Could I buy you a drink?"

The older woman smiled widely. "Of course, but only if I can do the same for you." She purred. Bet nodded, fairly sure that the color of her own face was somewhere between the shade of Magnolia's dress and the lady's blood-red lipstick. "You came in with Hancock," She noted. "You must be really something if Hancock took a shine to you."

Bet plopped some caps down on the counter, which the Mr. Handy swept away and replaced with another of the dusty beers that Magnolia had been nursing. "Not really, I'm pretty sure he just wanted to do Nora a favor because she's….in a difficult spot right now."

"No, I can see it." Magnolia rebutted. "He's been sneaking glances over at us ever since you walked up. He's got that funky grin plastered all over his face." The bartender came back over after tending to another patron and asked what Bet would like.

"May I ask what is in stock?" She inquired politely, eager to make a good impression on the subject of her minor crush. He offered the homebrewed beer that was the house special and she decided to have that. When she took her first sip, however, she made a face. This was nothing like what her grandfather had taught her to make. It tasted just as bad as the beer she'd gulped down earlier. "Is there anything stronger?" She asked and Mr. Handy replied with an offer to mix up a bit of vodka with Nuka cola, but it still wasn't what she was used to. "I wish we could get something a bit stronger." She lamented quietly.

"That is the strongest we have." Magnolia seemed a bit surprised.

"My granddad used to make moonshine for a bit of money on the side." She explained. "That was the real thing. It would knock you back on your ass if you drank it straight." She thought for a moment. "In fact, do you think that there'd be a market for some decent white lightening 'round here?"

"In this den of sin? Of course." The songstress answered with a red-lipped smirk. "Why, are you lookin' to sell?"

Bet tapped the bottle against her lips. "Maybe, if I can find the stuff I need. Is there any place to set up shop?"

Magnolia shifted closer. "I'm sure if you asked really nicely, Hancock would let you rent one of the warehouses." She lifted one of the short curls that had fallen over Bet's eyes. "You have lovely eyes." She complimented. "I don't believe I've seen that shade of green before." She put a finger under her chin and her breath caught. She'd never had anyone touch her like that, let alone someone so incredibly attractive. "And the softest skin I've ever felt."

"Oh..um…thanks." The weak alcohol could not be blamed for the rush of heat that made her thought process suddenly go fuzzy, and then blank. She felt the other woman's breath ghost over her face. It smelled sweet and heady. When her lips lightly touched her own she was pretty sure she stopped breathing completely, but it was over so soon it was like it didn't even happen.

A soft chuckle escaped Magnolia and when she pulled away it was with visible regret. "You are absolutely adorable. Believe me when I say that I would love to…" She trailed her fingers up Bet's bare arm and causing goosebumps to form. "…take this further, but I'm afraid I can't. You're a bit younger than me and I'm not really looking for anything right now. If it weren't for that I would love to." She placed her hands on Bet's. "I hope you can understand."

Bet's heart sank like a stone, but she smiled thinly back. "Of course, I apologize for being so forward." She slid a few more caps towards her. "Please, enjoy another drink on me. It was wonderful meeting you." Now mildly depressed, she rose and left the bar feeling very much alone in this new world. Sure, there were likely to be many more options down the road, but she'd hoped to find some slight comfort in the warmth of human contact sooner rather than later.

She didn't realize that she was moping until she heard a familiar voice rasp. "Looks like you need a pick-me-up." She met Hancock's coal-black eyes and noticed he was holding out a bottle of top-notch Pre-War whiskey. The label was mostly peeled away leaving behind a sticky residue that was free to collect bits of lint and dust. He waggled the bottle causing the liquid inside to slosh around invitingly. "It's from my personal stash." She scooted over to allow him room to sit. She noticed that Magnolia had resumed entertaining the guests. A quiet hiss left the bottle as he pried the cap off and took a huge swallow. "You wanna know how ghouls are made?" He asked out of the blue.

She lifted an eyebrow. "Do I have to kill something first?" She deadpanned.

He chuckled darkly. His gaze was unfocused like he was remembering something from long ago, but it could have been the drugs, too. "Nah, I'll let this one slide." He took another hearty swig before passing her the bottle. "It's the rads. A human takes in enough radiation and they got more problems than just cancer or mutant hands growing outta their stomachs. It can be quick or slow as fuck, but you start to lose your hair, then your skin starts peeling off, your nose drops right off your face, and sometimes…." His body tensed a little. "….sometimes ferals happen. No one knows why sometimes they do and sometimes they don't."

She placed her fingers deliberately over the remnants of adhesive and rubbed against the textured surface. "Maybe it's willpower or something." She theorized. "Every ghoul I've met in the past three days had something in them; a kind of inner strength or resilience or intense survival instinct."

He shook his head. "Nope, can't be."

"Why not?"

A self-deprecating smile crept its way onto his face. " 'Cuz I'm a ghoul." He placed a hand under his coat to fondle the reliable little tin of Mentats concealed there. She studied his face where a storm of emotions had played out for only just a moment before being quickly hidden behind the curtain of an easy, charismatic grin. "Enough of this pity-party shit, let's dance."

He had swept her up before she could even protest. A bouncy pop song that she vaguely remembered from her early teens was being blasted from a nearby jukebox. Several other people wobbled unsteadily onto the dance floor. There were so many people laughing and singing that her previous mood was forgotten.

Six songs later, she was still riding the high of the intoxicating music. It seemed like the entire bar was vibrating and the thump of the music was timed perfectly to her pounding heart. However, just as she was about to take another step, the heel of her shoe broke and she went flying backward into the ghoul to her right. The two of them went tumbling hard to the floor.

The ghoul under her cursed loudly and roughly pushed her off. She started to apologize, but her words caught in her throat when she realized that a pistol was being pressed into her face. "Fucking smoothskin bitch." He snarled. "Can't you fucking watch where you're going?" She stammered out an explanation about the shoe, but he waved it off. "Shut the fuck up. You smoothskins are all the same with your excuses and your shitty lies."

"Whoa, brother." Another ghoul attempted to place a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell are you talking about? It was just an accident." He shook off the other ghoul and continued to push the pistol harder into her head. He was shaking just a little and his eyes were a bit unfocused. A cold weight had leveled in her gut as she watched something unknown war on his face. The music had stopped and a frightened hush had fallen over the inebriated crowd.

A loud SHA-SHUNK cracked the silence and Bet pried her eyes away from her would-be killer to see Hancock coolly pointing his shotgun at the ghoul threatening her. "Jack, you know my policy." His black eyes looked as though they had been carved from anthracite. "Anyone threatens my people and they get the boot."

Jack's glazed eyes darted from her to Hancock and back again. "But she's not-"

"She's a guest." Quiet affirmations ran through the crowd and the ghoul who had tried to dissuade Jack from drawing his pistol on her helped Bet to her feet. "Just like anyone else who comes through that gate for the first time."

At that moment, the guard named Ham maneuvered his way through the crowd. He aimed his tommy gun at Jack, who was looking very cowed. He dropped his pistol to the floor and put his hands in the air while the angry guard forced him out. Bet was leaning heavily on the ghoul who had helped her because her fall had twisted her ankle badly. Even now her ankle was swelling up and starting to bruise. She forced herself to put some weight on her foot and winced. "Thanks." She said, shaking because of the pain and surprise.

The ghoul holding her up smiled kindly. "No problem, Sister." Then he looked at Hancock. "We should probably get her over to the Doc to get her foot looked at."

"Yeah, gotta make sure it's not broken." Hancock looped her other arm around his shoulder and the three of them made their way out of the club. She thanked them both several times and found out that the name of her new friend was Hal. Hal and Hancock led her through the doors of the Memory Den and past a number of strange pod-like contraptions into a basement lab area. A woman was deeply immersed in entering a long list of numbers and letters into a terminal. "Hey, Doc." Hancock knocked on the doorframe as he spoke.

The doctor jumped as she was shocked out of her intense concentration. "Mayor Hancock," She began, but stopped when she noticed he was not the only visitor to her lab. "Overdose?" She assumed irritably.

"Uh, no." Bet laughed. "Could you please have a look at my ankle?"

"I'm a neurologist, not a podiatrist, but I could check you out I suppose." Her friends deposited her on a metal chair while the woman poked and prodded her foot. She made a pained noise when the doc mercilessly moved her foot in every possible direction. "It doesn't appear to be broken. It's most likely just a bad strain on a tendon or at the worst a minor fracture. In any case, I suggest you stay off that foot for at least a week or at least until the pain and bruising subside. If the pain lasts longer than a week, then it's a fracture and we'll have to set it." She rose abruptly. "I wish you all the best. Now please, I have very important work right now that needs tending. Goodnight."

Bet was more than willing for the night to end. Hancock had to go back to the State House to speak with Ham and Jack. Hal, however, lingered in Hancock's lounge to make sure she was alright. He sat on the end of her favored couch and they made light conversation. He even offered her a bit of Med-X to help with the pain. "No, sorry." She declined politely. "I'm allergic to a lot of drugs and I've never tried that before, so I don't know if I'll have a reaction."

He was about to answer when Hancock returned. Her new friend left after making sure she was comfortable. The couch was a little lumpy and dusty, but it was clean for the most part. She felt the weariness of her long day's journey more deeply than she had anticipated. Hancock took a couple of heavily patched blankets out of the closet and handed one to her. She drew her blanket up to her chin and remembered no more.

A warm breeze blew her hair around to tickle her cheeks and nose. She irritably brushed the hairs away and rolled over, which inevitably caused pain to shoot up from her ankle. Grudgingly, she opened her eyes and glared down at her foot which protruded slightly from under the blanket. A sigh left her as she swung her legs over the edge of the couch and reached over the arm to grab the change of practical clothes she'd packed from her knapsack. She wriggled into the clean vault suit. She had no idea what time it was, but the sun was definitely high in the sky. She smiled to herself as she realized that a headache did not pound at her temples. At least she had managed to drink enough water to prevent a hangover, which was probably the best thing that had happened last night.

A loud knock interrupted her musing. "Bet?" Hancock's voice came from the other side of the thin plywood door.

She let in him immediately, of course, but wondered why he had bothered knocking on the door to his own lounge. He loped inside and she noticed something about him was definitely different. His easy smile was not so casual, nor did he appear to be as calm and put-together as per usual. "What's up?"

He pinched the bridge of his, well, what remained of his nose. "We escorted Jack outta the gates this morning. There shouldn't be any more trouble from him." Obviously, this act of punishment had greatly affected him. In fact, it appeared to trouble him much more than it should have.

"Um, is something the matter?" She asked curiously. She got the feeling that he was hiding something behind that sly façade.

"Nope," He shot her question down almost before it left her mouth. His eyes flickered down to her feet, and then up to the hand she had placed on the dresser for stability. "How's the foot?"

"Better." She lied. Truthfully, it was dreadfully swollen and the bruise had spread overnight so that now her entire foot was splotched with purple and blue. "I can walk on it now." She stubbornly took a step forward to prove her point, but the pain made her leg give out and he was forced to catch her as she stumbled forward.

"Riiiight." He made disbelieving, yet amused, huff. "That's why Amari sent you these." He went back out into the hall. Upon his return, he was carrying two crutches. The crutches must have been ancient since the cushion parts were torn to pieces so that stuffing poked out in all directions while the metal bits were definitely in need of rust remover.

Defeated, she hobbled back to the bed while her acquaintance leaned the crutches against the dresser. "Just call me gimpy." She grumbled.

For some reason, perhaps it was the fact that her injury made her a captive audience, Hancock decided to stay with her for a while. He did the majority of the talking while she mostly just asked questions about this new, irradiated environment that she had suddenly found herself in. Occasionally, he would make mention of a wild escapade with Nora or even from before he was a ghoul. The adventures were nearly always thrilling and full of action, but there were a few that were just plain hilarious. She lost her shit when he, through heaving bouts of mirth, told her the story of the dude who tried to tame Mirelurks.

She barely noticed that a few hours had passed, so engrossed had she been in the conversation. She quickly realized that the best of Hancock's many talents was his ability to talk…and talk….and talk some more. His way of painting a picture with words was quite enthralling. _No wonder so many people are drawn to him_ , she thought as he went on to describe clearing out an entire library full of super mutants.

When he had finished, she decided that now as good a time as any to broach a subject she'd wanted to discuss since her talk with Magnolia last night. "Hancock, I think I have an idea of the job I'd like to do around here. Goodneighbor seems like the perfect market for what I have in mind and if anyone could help me make it happen, it would be you."

His friendly tone turned to business instantly. "Whatchya got in mind, doll?"

She took in a deep breath and hoped for a brief second that her request would not be considered an affront to their current acquaintanceship or possible future friendship. "May I please make use of one of your warehouses to start up a still?" She spoke quickly in fear of an instant 'no'. "My grandfather taught me an awesome recipe for moonshine and I'm sure I could adapt it to new ingredients. Regardless of how it turns out, I'm sure it'll be loads better than the stuff The Third Rail already offers and it could bring in more business to the town. Since it's your warehouse, I'll give you a portion of my profit each month as rent on top of a gallon of product."

To her complete relief, a wide and conniving grin spread across his face. He held out his hand to her. "Sounds like a deal to me." They shook hands and she was reminded how surprisingly pleasant his skin felt in spite of its seemingly shredded condition. He leaned forward a little. "Now, tell me what else ya need."

She tapped a finger against her lips for a moment. "Well, I'd need lots of clean water first off. That's the most important thing and probably the easiest. Second, there's the issue of fermentation. I need something high in sugar or starch, preferably fruit or corn, to start the process. The best way to produce it in bulk would be to use some sort of barrel or vat to hold the liquid as its being processed, so I need lots of barrels or metal tubs with lids. I'd also need a way of bottling it all up, so I'd have to build some sort of machine for that, but we can figure out the mechanics of that later on."

"Milk bottles." He interjected.

"Huh?"

He flashed a knowing smile at her. "Empty milk bottles are a cap a dozen throughout the Commonwealth. Just gotta wash 'em and have a bunch on hand all the time." He rubbed his thumb over his chin. "Sounds like you're going to need a partner to help with scavenging the parts for all o' this."

She smirked back at him. "Are you offering?"

He chuckled. "Like you said, it's my warehouse. So, yeah, I guess I am." He clapped her on the back. "An' I have the perfect place in mind to get the fruit we need. I know a settlement of ghouls who farm tarberries. They could use the caps, too, so it's perfect for all sides." He made a thoughtful noise. "As for the problem with the bottling machine, Nora knows a guy who's handy with makin' that sorta stuff. His name's Sturges. He's a tall guy, a bit burly, and sports a pompadour."

Their plans were growing more and more solid with every minute. She couldn't help being excited over the prospect of finally having a place in this world. Carving out a spot for herself in the Wasteland was a great personal accomplishment, all things considered. He assured her that as soon as her foot was healed, he would send word to Nora and Sturges, and then the four of them would go on the first of several scavenging trips to get the essentials.

Hancock left for about fifteen minutes to go find the local provisioner to deliver their note to Sanctuary. When he returned, they discussed the finer details of marketing. "It's not as if I can exactly put up a billboard." She said as they discussed advertising. "I guess I'll have to rely on word of mouth for the most part. Although, if the stuff turns out half as good as my grandad's, the recommendations won't be a problem, plus I could always test out new flavors." She paused. "I think I could even use tatos to try and replicate vodka."

The day continued to wear on as they finally faded back into the casual conversation. It was dark before Hancock finally left. A day full of planning and friendly banter had worn her out more than she would have been willing to admit. She sank into her bed, eager to heal and begin work on her plans. Perhaps tomorrow her foot would be a bit better or at least good enough for her to pick out a warehouse and maybe take a short tour of the town.

Goodneighbor was a place full of wonder for her, yet also a source of anxiety as well. It was like standing at the edge of the ocean and seeing only a tiny degree of its beauty, but being mildly afraid of the possible dangers that lurked beneath. Like a cautious diver carefully exploring the shallows before daring to explore the reef, she risked delving the secrets of the places she had been for short periods of time and lingered longer in those areas to learn them. The State House, in particular, was wonderful to her. It was how she learned that Hancock's generosity went deeper than simply doing favors for friends. She saw the mattresses, sleeping bags, suitcases, and duffle bags that were scattered across the floors around his own office and lounge. He was giving people places to stay if they needed to come down off a bad high or even if they just needed somewhere assuredly safe to put their heads down.

It surprised her, when she explored the warehouses, to find them completely devoid of any life. She hadn't gone very far into the first warehouse when she found the first of many bodies. Her scream sent the guards running in after her. Ham was the closest one and he got there the fastest. His face was grim when he saw the reason for her distress. The bodies had quite obviously been there for a long time, probably around a year, and the flesh had long since rotted away. However, the stench of rotten meat dogged the air like a stubborn stain or a puddle of blood on centuries-old floorboards. She didn't go back in until they'd disposed of every single body. The experience almost made her reconsider using one of the warehouses at all, but they were the biggest and emptiest buildings in all of Goodneighbor, so it wasn't like she had much of a choice.

She deliberated for a few days until she finally decided on the warehouse across from the Third Rail. She had decided to move in once her foot was healed and fix up the place a bit. First on the list of fixes was the giant hole in the second floor, but according to Hancock Nora was handy with that kind of thing and asking nicely would probably earn her assistance.

As it turned out, Bet was lucky that her ankle was not fractured and it was becoming easier for her to get around. Two weeks after the fact, it was nearly completely healed (just a bit stiff, really) and the crutches were no longer necessary. Free at last, she took the opportunity to roam the place that would soon become her permanent home. She learned the names of the guards and shopkeeps by heart. Strangely, she seemed to have struck up a particular friendship with the assualtron known as KLE-0.

She found the robot's attitude to be extraordinarily funny. She had never done anything more complicated than clean a gun, so it was from KLE-0 that she slowly learned how to modify and update weapons as well as armor. Eventually, she allowed Bet to take a look at the power armor frames she had in stock. Power armor was something she had next to no knowledge about since her experience was limited to mere mentions or photos of it in magazines. So far, she was at least able to figure out how to attach the appropriate parts to the frame, how to properly clean it, and how to lubricate the joints. It wasn't much, but the job earned her enough caps to keep her from going hungry. She usually bought her groceries from Daisy, but she occasionally splurged on a dinner with Hancock at The Third Rail. She always tried to allow her to buy both of their meals on these special days, but he'd always manage to slip the equivalent of the meal's cost back into her pocket as they talked. She'd learned quickly that he could be quite slick when he insisted on being a gentleman.


	3. Chapter 3

It was another week and a half before Nora was able to get away from her busy lifestyle as General of the Minutemen, unofficial leader of the settlers of Sanctuary Hills, and member of the Railroad. She arrived somewhat disheveled after having a run-in with a raider camp on the way to Goodneighbor, but otherwise in a cheerful and helpful mood. Sturges was with her looking equally battered, yet eager to begin work on the bottling machine.

"We could use some of the stuff from the Boston Brewery. We'd need some way to cart all of those heavy barrels out, though. It might be best to jerry-rig an old wagon so that we can haul it without a Brahmin." Nora suggested as they sat in Hancock's lounge area where he typically spoke with guests and business partners. She took a large swig of the purified water and Sturgis took over the conversation.

"It'll be easy enough to build a water purifier, but I'm gonna need some very specific things for this machine." He laid out a sheet of notebook paper onto which had been drawn a rough construction plan. It had an extensive list of the necessary components and it was very clear that a lot more work would be going into this project than she had initially thought.

"I've already notified The Slog of a huge order for Tarberries." Nora informed them. "Wiseman was thrilled."

"I'd imagined he would be." Hancock had settled himself into the settee and put his booted feet up on the low coffee table. "Not many people out there who'd do business with a ghoul." He looked pointedly at Bet, and then Nora.

"Well, times are always changin'" Sturges commented lightly.

"Is there another farm out there that specifically grows tatos as well?" Bet inquired of Nora, who seemed to be the most knowledgeable about settlements and their crops. "Perhaps even Melons or Mutfruit?"

Nora thought for a moment. "Well, I do know of a few places that only grow tatos and mutfruit, but most people don't bother growing only melons. We could use Greygarden for the mutfruit and I can set up a greenhouse for melons at Sanctuary Hills."

"Thanks, I'll need a great deal of fruit and tatos, but there is also the matter of harvesting wild plants for flavor variety." She told her. She was so happy to finally be on the same page with her, although it did seem a bit like Nora was simply impressed Bet hadn't shot herself in the face yet. Whenever she looked at the hardened General, she saw everything she could ever want to be. It was almost bittersweet, because she knew she could never attain the level of skill Nora boasted, but she wanted so badly to impress her. Her eyes darted over in Hancock's direction, but she looked away before he noticed. Maybe she wanted to impress more than just Nora.

She was forced back into the conversation by Nora addressing her directly. "Then you'd want hubflower, aster, fever blossom and carrot flower." She said. "Hubflower is kind of grape-ish, aster is a bit like very sweet chamomile tea, fever blossom has a sort of blueberry taste and carrot flower is slightly like an orange. Oh, and you could always hit up traders up for Nuka-Cola or Vim as a mixer."

It all sounded pretty good to her. It was just the hardest part would be scavenging enough stuff to kick-start all of it. So they all agreed that they would split it up. Hancock and Bet were to find as many milk bottles, screw-on caps, and metal barrels as they could possibly bring back. Sturges and Nora decided that, since they were the best with mechanical contraptions, they would gather the parts for the bottler. Nora brought everything for the water purifier, so that would be the first thing to be built. They already knew that the best place to situate the purifier would be down in the tunnels that Benny had dug in her ill-fated attempt to steal from Hancock. That was to ensure that their system didn't have to rely on rainwater.

"Now," Sturges leaned further back into his seat. "I'm not sayin' this will be somethin' spectacular, but it all sounds pretty solid at this point." With that said, the group discussed a few less significant details about their plans such as the fact that a small cart would be needed to haul the heavier objects and where both groups intended to scavenge for useful junk. Once every possible point was covered, Sturges and Nora left to go prepare for their excursion.

Once their other two friends had left to complete their half of the duties, Hancock took Bet to Daisy's to stock up on scrap to build the cart they'd need. Several armfuls of wood scraps and a box of nails later, Hancock was working on building the body of the cart, and in the meantime she was working on an ancient set of wheels connected by a rusted axel.

The project took them a day and a half of nearly non-stop work. Bet felt sure she'd be picking splinters and trying to scrub out rust stains from her hands for weeks. Nonetheless, she was proud of what they had accomplished. She beamed at her friend, who was grinning as he knocked in the very last nail. "Alright, grab the other side." He told her. Together, they flipped the cart over. "Just have to attach the wheels and then we'll be all set."

"Wonderful! I'm going to go back to the warehouse and pack us some supplies." She left while he bent down to affix the axel and wheels to the underside of the cart. She stuffed everything she could fit into their bags; three days rations, a gallon of water, extra bullets for her pistol, and a lot of extra shells for his shotgun.

They had two destinations in mind to gather the bottles, barrels, and crates; Gwinnett Brewery and Beantown Brewery. Luckily, Nora had cleared the place of the raiders who had moved in only a month ago. "Does Nora have a hand in everything?" Bet mused on their way out of town.

"Pretty much, now that I think about it. That's how it is when you're the General of the Minutemen, though. She likes to take care of things personally." He reached a hand deep into the bowls of a broken milk machine and retrieved several empty bottles that he dropped into his bag.

A huge burlap sack was slung over her shoulder as well. It gave her the effective appearance of a very dirty Santa Claus. The sack, however, was full of glass bottles instead of presents. A few feet away, Hancock was resolutely attempting to lift a metal recycling barrel, which had previously been used to dispose of deformed beer bottles. "Come on," He grunted under his breath. He was able to move it on his own, but it blocked his line of sight.

"Need help?" She helped by guiding him out the door of the brewery. Together, they managed to move it into the cart, although it groaned and creaked loudly under the weight. They now had two decent-sized metal barrels, three full sacks of milk bottles, plus an equal amount of unused screw-on caps to seal the bottles. Milk bottle caps were useless as currency, so they were perfect.

It had been several long days on the road; collecting milk bottles, milk caps, and the Boston Brewery had been their final stop on the journey. The only trick now was to make it back home in one piece. A chilly breeze blew around them and rustled the few remaining leaves on the trees.

It brought with it a strange smell, though. Bet took in a deeper breath; what was that strikingly familiar scent? Then it hit her all at once. "We've got to go!" She secured the tailgate of the wagon as quickly as she could and ran to grab her side of the hitching bars.

The smell was that of burning wood and it either meant a forest fire or raiders. The problem was that the cart was currently weighed down with nearly four hundred pounds of valuable scrap. It would also have to be moved at a much more rapid pace than she'd initially figured in. She wasn't sure that their makeshift cart would withstand rough treatment while being so heavily weighed down.

Now, the smartest thing would have been to hide the loot in the trees, investigate the potential danger, and then flee with the loot. "Do you know if there is a settlement near here?" She asked Hancock as they lugged the wagon behind a suitable bush.

"Can't remember, sorry." He began to cover the wagon with fallen branches and other debris.

Once their loot was suitably hidden, they prowled the hilly, forested area carefully. They came to a particularly burned out area that was still smoking, but it appeared to be nothing alarming and wasn't spreading. As they moved farther away from the Brewery, however, the smell of burning wood became stronger and they heard sounds like the sharp cracking of lightning. "Gunshots." She whispered to him. He nodded solemnly and kept a steady hand on his shotgun.

Then a scream broke through the air, high and desperate. "PLEASE! NO! NOT MY BABY!" Gruff laughter followed the terrorized woman's scream.

Hancock scowled and in the low, patterned light of the forest, a murderous growl left his throat. His obsidian eyes glinted with hellfire that promised deadly retribution to any who crossed him. His lithe, thin body tensed like a predator preparing to pounce. Nothing remained of the easy-going, eternally cheerful junkie she had come to know over the past two weeks. Something inside her chest made a great leap and, with a start, she noticed her heart was pounding hard and fast. "We gotta do somethin'." His voice rumbled deep and low in his throat as more gunshots, wails, and sobs reached their ears.

"We could run out guns blazin' hoping like hell we don't get shot." She grinned at him. Within a second, his face became recklessly eager and he reached down into his coat. She sucked in a breath when she realized it was a homemade grenade of some sort. He lobbed it in the raiders' direction.

Here was her first real test of worth. If she could survive this minor skirmish, then she could survive anything the Commonwealth threw her way. On Hancock's mark, they ran out of the brush ready to kill. It was so hard to see past the intense smoke from the bomb and the burning house, but she could make out a couple of children being cornered by a raider with blue paint smeared across his dirty mug. She took careful aim, ignoring the stinging of smoke in her eyes, and fired. He went down like a sack of potatoes. Another raider, this time a female, was running around with a huge torch in hand. Her intent was to set the other house on fire. It took three shots, but she caught the bitch in the leg. She didn't notice that the woman had seen her and was taking aim with a pipe pistol of her own until a searing pain shot through her shoulder.

She gritted her teeth hard. It was practically unbearable, but she fought through it when she heard Hancock exchanging fire with the three remaining raiders. He laughed in exhilaration. "Next shot better kill me!" His bravery steeled her resolve. She dodged some random shots sent her way. A bullet kicked up dirt dangerously near her left foot as she ran to the fallen log he had taken cover behind. She dove behind it and landed on her bad shoulder. She ignored the pain to take a shot over the log at a burly, heavily tanned raider and caught him square in the arm. He howled with pain, at least until Hancock let off a round into his face.

"Are you alright?" She gasped when she noticed blood seeping out from under his hat. A bullet had grazed the side of his head, but he assured her that it was a minor wound. It only appeared to be a bad injury because head wounds tend to bleed a great deal.

"Yeah, you?" He eyed her shoulder as he yanked her back down behind the log to narrowly avoid a rain of bullets.

"Fine." She said through clenched teeth. She took aim with her modified .10 mm, and then hurriedly ducked to avoid the counterfire. "Two left, one's wounded, I think." They took aim again and Hancock managed to get the wounded raider, while the remaining guy decided it was time to make a break for it. "Maybe we should let him go." She said uncertainly as they watched the cowardly bandit flee.

"So he can join up with a different gang and hurt more innocents? No, thanks." Hancock leaped out of their hiding spot to chase the guy down. He easily overtook the man, tackled and pinned him.

In the meantime, Bet made her way through the fading smoke to search the two houses for more survivors. She ran first into the smoldering hut, but found only a single body. With difficulty, she dragged the dead man out and laid him face-up on the grass. She fought to ignore the panic that welled up like a spring within her at the possibility of finding more bodies. In the second house, she found a frightened woman clutching a bloody bundle of cloth. She was mumbling and her eyes were wide, yet unseeing. "Ma'am?" She said quietly. She knew instinctively that any attempt to part the woman from her dead infant would result in hysterics.

"You saved us." A voice came from behind her. A tall young man stepped out of the shadow. He was nearly as frightened as the older woman, but appeared to have his wits about him. "You and that ghoul."

"Yeah," She tried to keep her own feelings of grief and fear out of her voice. "I guess we did. Is she your mom?" She pointed to the woman.

"Yeah, it's…it's just me and my mom now." His expression hardened into volatile anger. He slammed a fist into the wall of the hut, which caused it to shake. "They…they snatched her out of mom's hands and bashed my baby sister's head in!"

Bet honestly didn't know what to say. Nothing really prepares a person to talk to someone who just watched their infant sibling be murdered in cold blood. She mostly just stood there afraid to do anything. He braced himself against the wall, but his feet could seemingly no longer hold him and he slid to the floor. He covered his face with his hands and his body shook with quiet sobs. His fingernails clawed at the flesh of his forehead like he was trying to rip the torturous images of his sister's death out of his very skull.

Off in the distance, she heard Hancock's shotgun go off. "I…I know it's not much of a consolation," She stumbled over the words. "but we got them all."

"No, you didn't." His brown eyes held such anguish for someone so young. "You will never get them all. There'll be new ones next week or next month. It'll never stop."

"That's why we're here." Hancock had come up behind her so silently that his voice made her jump. "We hurt whoever needs hurtin' and we help whoever needs helping."

There wasn't much they could do to help the woman. The son was doing his best with consoling her by bringing her water and food from the garden. Their crops had, other than being a bit trampled, suffered little damage and the well still worked, so they wouldn't starve or thirst to death. Hancock grabbed a shovel he spotted lying on the ground. He approached the man's body, but was stopped by the son.

Pale, and shivering, but his face set with determination, he gently took the shovel. "It should be me." He said quietly. He met their eyes for the first time. "Thank you, really, for everything."

They left the solemn farm boy and his poor, crazed mother not long after putting out the fire that the raiders had started in the first hut. It was a quiet walk back to their scavenged supplies. "Let me see that shoulder." Her companion demanded. He carefully peeled the fabric of her t-shirt away from the wound. Blood had run the length of her arm and dried in the battle, but fresh bubbled up as he disturbed the injury. "Real lucky," He noted after a thorough inspection. "It went clean through and it's superficial; only skin and fat."

"What about you?" She almost went to touch the blood on his face, but stopped herself.

He grinned and showed her an empty stimpack. "All fixed up, good as new." She attempted to smile back, but a pang of guilt bit at her. How could she smile knowing what had just happened? How could she be happy with the knowledge that there was an nth degree of suffering in the world? In fact, how dare she? "Hey, you good?" She couldn't look at him now. A wave of emotion had just rolled over her. It was like she was finally realizing what had happened and it was swallowing her. She swallowed hard and fast to force the tears away. Hancock said something else, but it sounded like a muffled, dark echo.

She felt him loop his arm around her shoulders and she dropped back into reality as if an anchor had been chained to her ankles. She dared to look up and his ruined face was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. His smile could have outshone the sun. His eyes shone like black glass that had captured moonbeams in their depths. "That was rough back there." His voice, rough as pock-marked stone, gently unwound the piano wire of panic within her mind. "You took it like a champ, though."

She laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I'm sure almost having a complete break-down just now was very impressive."

He shrugged. "You handled it."

She plucked at a piece of dry grass. "I guess so."

He snorted and elbowed her gently. "You know what the problem is?" She stared up at him blankly for a moment before he rolled his eyes dramatically and poked her playfully in the stomach. "Ya need to figure out how to have some confidence in yourself. A bit of confidence goes a long way in a fight, trust me." He settled his hands back in his lap and leaned his back up against the tree behind them. "It gets better." The smirk had faded from his face. "It's always hard, but it does get better."

She looked out into the distance and watched threadlike strands of cloud slowly roll across the sun. Did he mean it would get easier to hurt and kill people or did he mean it would get easier to watch people get hurt and killed? Either way, she wasn't so sure. She didn't feel like she was adjusting very well to life outside the vault. "I don't think we should travel together anymore." She locked her eyes on the swaying branches of a tree in the distance. "I'm going to get you killed."

He lightly pushed her over. "Don't be like that."

She frowned at him. "Don't be like what?"

"Don't be stupid." His eyes crinkled as he beamed at her with an expression of mirth. His eyes traveled back to her hurt shoulder, which she had been trying terribly hard to ignore, and his moment of pride in her was dampened by worry. "You'll have a hard time hauling the scrap back with that shoulder." He rummaged around in their medkit to find gauze and bandages. He rinsed the area with water and bound it up for her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and a quiet moan of pain escaped her clamped jaw when he tugged the bandage tight. "I'll be fine. I just hope it doesn't get infected before we get back home." When the pain had eased back into a milder throb, she opened her eyes to find he had a mile-wide grin. "What?"

"You called Goodneighbor home. You thinkin' about stayin' for good?" She knew that his flippant tone was a farce; her answer meant a great deal to him. It was a subtle hint that he cared, at least a little bit, about her and her heart warmed right up like asphalt in July.

She chose to give in to the urge to be a bit sarcastic. "Nope, I'm taking all this shit back to the vault." She poked him in the chest. "Of course I'm gonna stay!" She stood up and gently rolled her shoulder. The pain made her wince, but it was bearable. Only time could really tell if she could handle the constant strain of hauling the wagon. She caught him eyeing her with concern. "Hancock, you…you've been amazing to me." She reached out to gently touch his arm. "Everyone in my vault was terrified to leave, even if they were willing to trade, but you showed me how much potential this world as if we only give it a chance." She slid her hand down to lightly grasp his and hoped like hell he didn't jerk away. He didn't move a muscle, but his entire demeanor showed he was listening hard to what she had to say and carefully considering every word. "I love what you've built there and what it means to so many people; a home, safety, a place to be who you really are and fuck the consequences." He bared his teeth in a giant, silly grin. "I'd like to think I've grown a bit as a person _because_ you brought me to Goodneighbor." She flexed her hands; the skin of her palms and fingertips were starting to toughen up. "You're right, I was just being stupid. I can practically feel myself getting stronger. It hasn't even been a month, but already I'm so much better with a gun and even when it just comes to dealing with people…" She ran her fingers through her short hair. "I want to show you how grateful I am. If you let me, I want to help around town. I want to help you help people who need it."

He played with the lighter he'd produced from somewhere on his person and tiny bursts of flame shot up from the top like the fire was dancing in his hand. She couldn't help staring because nearly every movement he made was hypnotic. "There are lots of people who'd take an insult to getting' handouts they didn't ask for." His response was calm, but she could sense the tension there.

She was treading on thin ice and she knew it. "I'm not saying Goodneighbor isn't wonderful. I'm saying we can make it…cleaner?" She now knew that saying what she needed to say was going to prove so much more difficult a task than it had seemed to be in her head. "Hancock, it kills me seeing people having to sleep on mattresses outside in the cold. Once the still is up and running, I want to clean up the rest of the warehouses and make one of them into a drifter hotel. I'll make sure there's a small stock of Addictol and spare ammo, just in case anyone's low or suffering through withdrawal." She broke off in order to check if he was starting to get angry; nope, still just playing with the lighter and keeping a lid on his emotions. Damn, he was so hard to read. She dared to start up again before her slight pause grew into an awkward silence. "It's not a handout, honest! I'll…find them odd jobs to do for me and I'll pay them by giving them room and board. I know I'm not so good with much else besides cleaning shit, cooking shit, and brewing booze, but" She lifted her head up and straightened her back. Only three months ago she would never have even started this conversation and that thought gave her just enough confidence to explain herself properly. "Right now, I'll settle for being allowed to clean up the enormous mounds of garbage in the alleys." In order to make light of the suddenly intense mood, she added a snarky comment. "If it makes you feel better, we can pack all the garbage up and go dump it right in front of Diamond City."

To her surprise, that actually got him laughing. "Could ya imagine the looks on their faces?" He snorted loudly and grinned at her. "Alright, doll. You've convinced me, but what are you planning to do with the last warehouse?"

She beamed up at him; both relieved that he'd taken her speech exactly the way she'd meant it. A thought occurred to her; if she could trade words and banter with the infamous ghoul mayor of a rough-and-tumble town like Goodneighbor, maybe she shouldn't worry so much about talking to other people. "I'm going to ask all the pre-War ghouls in town if they'd like to make a few extra caps by teaching classes there. It'll just be the basics; reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, survival skills…how to tell a chameleon Deathclaw apart from a bush…simple stuff. It's all a no-judgment-allowed type of system where kids _and_ adults can have access to an education." She had spent a great deal of the past month thinking it all over. "Unlike Diamond City, everyone will be treated equally. After all, not everyone had the privilege of getting an education when they were growing up. It's hard to pay attention to learning your letters when you're worried about starving to death or getting shot."

He wasn't saying 'no' yet or even looking at her askance, and that was more than enough for hope to spring up within her chest like hubflowers in May. "How are ya gonna do it?" Again, his tone was neutral and she was under the firm belief that he was withholding judgment until he'd really heard her out on her plans…and she had a lot of plans.

She rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet. "I'll pay them 10 caps per lesson per day. If they don't have a proper home or food, I'll give them a space in the other warehouse. They're always free to come and go and lessons will be scheduled at their discretion. I'm going to have to sit in on their classes for the first week, though, just to make sure they're right for the job. If they're not, I'll find something else for them to do." She continued on explaining her plans to rescue old library books, globs, pens, pencils, and paper to stock the school up.

She watched him with bated breath. Was that approval in his eyes or was it just wishful thinking on her part? "Sounds like you've gotten awfully ambitious here recently, Sugar Bomb." Amusement and surprise, in equal measure, highlighted his words. "Did ya go and grow a backbone when I wasn't lookin'?" He teased her, but she knew it was all in good fun.

She grinned back. "See? I told you I wasn't a lost cause." Her heart and stomach were doing gymnastics because the way he was looking at her now would once have made her blush from head to foot, but she had much better control over herself now. She'd actually impressed him… _him_...the man who could take on a whole camp full of raiders by his lonesome…the man who could make a crowd hang on his every word. It was hard to remember that he was a just a regular guy sometimes, even though she was pretty sure that beneath the charismatic façade he was almost as insecure as she was. She didn't want to fall into the trap of hero worship, but…damn, his opinion was still important to her. "I'll be toting a mini-gun and mowing down super mutants in your name in no time."

He chuckled, but his eyes were serious. "Forget me, how about in your own name?"

"I could never forget you." It was hardly more than a whisper, but he heard it. "You're the best friend I've ever had, Hancock." She told him in a stronger voice. "I…I know we've not really known each other for very long, but I was…well, I've never had a lot of friends." Her resolve finally broke and she lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't say something like that."

He moved his hand to cup her cheek. "Hey, you and I got no problems. I like the way you operate, sister. You started out slow, but now you've got a bit of momentum and you're headed somewhere. I've got no problem followin' ya and watchin' your back. Ya got nothin' to worry about with me coverin' ya." Somehow, the small gesture was immensely reassuring and she relaxed a little bit. "I said we're pals and that ain't gonna change just because ya can't help gettin' a bit mushy every once in a while." He tipped her chin up to make her look at him. "Let me tell ya somethin', babe. I didn't start out as the confident and sexy zombie king that ya see today." He smirked down at her, but she was lost in the acrid bite of the scent of cigarettes and the chalky smell of berry mentats that lingered on his breath. "Ten years ago, I wandered into Goodneighbor with a smooth set of skin and an appetite for any chems I could get my hands on. I was young and I'd go on these…wild tears…doing any and all that I could buy or find. It took a while, but I finally found the motherload; an experimental radiation drug and only one hit. It did exactly what I knew it would, but the high was _so_ worth it."

She tilted her head to the side questioningly. "You knew it would turn you into a ghoul?" She frowned at him suspiciously. "You're making it sound almost like…like you _wanted_ to be a ghoul."

He appeared honestly taken aback that she'd caught on to that and was wrong-footed by it. "Heh, really didn't expect ya to see through that."

She studied him for a brief moment. "You don't have to tell me why you are the way you are, Hancock. If you're uncomfortable telling me why you became a ghoul, then you don't have to." She reached out for his hand and squeezed it tight. "Also, I know you haven't taken anything at all since we left Goodneighbor and you've barely lit up more than a couple of cigarettes. Is there something wrong? Again, you don't have to tell me, but I'm asking because I'm concerned."

Once more, she'd taken him unawares by her uncanny perception; he'd thought he was being sneaky. "Guess ya caught me tryin' to be a gentleman, sugar bomb. You can't…ya know…so, I didn't think it'd be fair to ya if I took a few chem-" He cut himself off when he saw that she had reached into her pocket and pulled out a mentats tin.

She pressed the tin into the hand she held and folded his fingers over it. "Don't you ever try to be anyone except yourself around me, Hancock. I'd never want you to think you'd have to change your habits just to suit me. It's a nice thought, but I really don't mind if you take the occasional chem break."

Hancock rubbed his thumb thoughtfully over the tin. "How many drugs do ya know for sure that you're allergic to?" His question seemed to be pulled right out of thin air, so she stammered out that she'd only knew about her allergy to the medical chems.

She realized that she was still holding his hand and immediately let go. "The doctor said that I should try to stay away from them all, just in case, because they had no practical way of testing my allergy. Actually, I've only known that I'm allergic for a couple of years now. Bobby and I were..." She searched for the right words. "We were having a discussion and…well…I tripped. I fell down the stairs, broke my leg in two places and fractured my wrist. They tried to give me stimpacks to fix me up, but I broke out and swelled up like a bloated Brahmin."

His eyes narrowed doubtfully. "A discussion, huh? Was Bobby Deluca the guy who dropped you like a hot tato?" She bit her lip and nodded. "In my experience, doll, _discussions_ don't usually end with broken bones. I'm going to ask ya somethin' personal an' I want ya to be honest with me." He warned her gravely. "Did that boy ever hit ya?"

She bit her lip hard and tasted blood. Memories of shouting rang in her ears; insults and accusations that used to make her heart twist. Other memories came with those, but she forced the worst of them back behind a mental wall. "Not…often…only when he hadn't had a fix in a while, I swear!" She finally confessed.

Hancock had to take a step back to try to compose himself. Of course, it made so much more sense now; her deeply ingrained insecurities, her dependent nature…even the fact that she'd mentioned never having many friends before and how much better she'd gotten now that she was out of the damn vault. Maybe he'd have seen it sooner if he'd popped a mentat or two and actually took the time to think it over. He growled out of frustration and the mentat tin in his hand creaked in protest as his grip tightened.

"Hancock?" Her voice pulled him out of his murderous thoughts. "D-don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter anymore. We still need to go to back to 81 to get the yeast, but I don't want you to think that you have to save me or anything. We probably won't even see him if we go straight to my grandparents…Hancock?"

It wasn't the first time he'd had to hide his feelings behind a forced smile. "Right, doll…you're right." In the back of his mind, John Hancock felt the strong urge to protect his friend. He was a protective and territorial man by nature; no one messed with him or his without repercussions. He was pretty damn glad she'd told him the truth before they got to the vault because now he'd make damn sure that slimeball didn't get within forty fucking feet of her. "Thanks for the mentats, babe." He made a show of picking one out and dropping it in his mouth, but as soon as she looked away he spat it back out. He wanted to be in his right mind for this.

Exhausted from sleep deprivation and jittery from the anxiety that had settled like a stone in her stomach, Bet smiled wearily when a familiar sight came into view up ahead; the black maw of earth that opened up into Vault 81. Her shoulder ached badly and had been bleeding on and off, but the weakness in her knees and the dread in her heart had nothing to do with that. She chanced a glance at Hancock and caught a fleeting expression of anger before it was quickly hidden. She hoped like hell they wouldn't run into Bobby because she _knew_ Hancock would tear him a new ass, no matter how much her ghoul friend had tried to act like he wouldn't. She wasn't entirely convinced Hancock wouldn't kill him outright. She wasn't a vindictive person and she really had loved Bobby before he got into jet, so she really hoped they could get in and out without running into him. She couldn't exactly bring herself to regret sharing a bit of herself with Hancock, though, because he'd shared a bit of himself, too.

The familiar smell of recycled oxygen met her nose and the guards stared at them both like they were covered in mauve polka dots. "Whoa, check who's back!" One of them called out. "I totally thought you'd die out there, Betty."

She grimaced to herself; she'd almost forgotten what it was like to be called by her full name again. It made her feel old. "Are you disappointed that I didn't?" She grinned at him and the guard did a double take.

"What the hell…" He muttered to himself. Betty Stillwater had _never_ talked back. "Who are you and what did you do with the real Betty?" She only laughed and pulled her ghoul companion down the hall to the elevator.

When she said they'd go straight to her grandparents, she'd meant it. She didn't stop for conversations with anyone or even to say 'how do you do'. She marched right down to the commissary where her grandmother was standing behind the bar cleaning a glass. "Gram?" The old woman nearly dropped the glass out of shock.

"Lance! Lance! Get on over here and hug your granddaughter!" She shouted and caught Bet up in a rib-cracking hug. The three of them embraced and basked in the moment of reunion before either of her family members noticed Hancock's silent presence.

They nodded respectfully at him and he returned it. "Hey, babe, you catch up with the family. I'm gonna take a smoke break outside." The lie rolled easily off his tongue. He was actually going to scope out the vault for the Deluca boy and scare the ever-loving shit out of him. He knew that Bobby Deluca wasn't exactly a _boy_ , per se, but anyone who acted as childishly as Bobby didn't deserve to be called a man. He'd taken it upon himself to make sure that Bet would never be bothered by that asshole again.

The only problem was he'd forgotten how labyrinthine these vaults could be and he'd had to get directions three times before he'd even made it through the rest of the vault. It had been half an hour, way longer than any smoke break should be, but he still hadn't found the asshole. He'd even checked the maintenance room twice. He sighed and was about to give up when he saw Bobby-mother-fucking-Deluca dragging Bet by the wrist back to the maintenance room. Hancock followed like a shadow, but hung back for a bit until Bobby had Bet cornered in the far part of the room.

"No." Her tone was firm, but she looked terrified. "No, Bobby. He's my friend."

Bobby scoffed. "You don't _have_ friends." He slammed her wrist against the wall to pin her there. "You only have me."

She scowled at him, despite the fact that there were tears in her eyes, and snapped at him. "You didn't want me anymore, remember?" She aimed a kick at his shin, but he just grabbed her leg and positioned himself between her legs. Hancock didn't catch what Deluca said, but he couldn't find it in him to care much because he was on him in half a second.

He pried Deluca's fingers from Bet's wrist and forced him down with his arm locked behind his back. "Ya move and I'll break it." He snarled in Bobby's ear.

"Hancock!" Bet shrieked and ran at him. "No! It's fine! Don't hurt him!" She begged desperately. If Hancock hurt anyone, even if it was Bobby Deluca in her defense, the overseer might give in to her xenophobia and hurt him in retaliation. She couldn't bear the thought of Hancock getting hurt- or worse- because of her!

Hancock was absolutely furious; he'd been seething for hours about this. "So, ya like hittin' people?" He forced Bobby's face into the gravel that lined the floor. "How about ya hit _me_ , huh? Whaddya say, asshole? No guns, no knives or brass knuckles…just you an' me."

"Please, Hancock, just-"

He threw a look over his shoulder at Bet. "Ya said he broke your wrist and your leg, right? What else did he do to ya, doll?" He demanded. She looked petrified, but she shook her head. "C'mon, babe." He said in a softer tone. "I'm not gonna kill him, I swear. I'm just gonna beat him six ways to Sunday." He glared down at Bobby.

Tears flowed down her cheeks. "Hancock, that really was the worst of it. He only gave me slapped me around a few times before that and that's the truth!" She thought he was letting Bobby up, but instead he jerked Deluca to his feet and started patting him down. Satisfied that his opponent didn't have any weapons, Hancock stepped back.

"Hit me, ya goddamn woman-beater." He invited Bobby with a smirk that was so cold it could have frozen even the bravest of hearts. Bobby swayed a little on his feet; his face was scratched up by the gravel and he was glaring stonily back at Hancock. There was fear on his face, as well, but Hancock could tell he was suffering from withdrawal, which was fueling his rage. He ran at Hancock, who side-stepped him easily and snagged his raised arm to slam him face-first into the wall.

Bobby grunted in pain. "Ya hurt 'er, now it's my turn to hurt you." Hancock growled in his ear. He tightened his strong grip and felt the bones bend in a little under the pressure. Bobby whined in pain and tried to wriggle out of the hold, but Hancock hardly had to try to keep him right where he wanted him. There was an audible snap as he casually broke Deluca's wrist and the mayor savored the sound like a fine wine. Bobby screamed in agony while Hancock stepped back with a feral grin. Bobby fell back to the floor clutching his broken wrist. Hancock's booted foot came to rest atop Deluca's leg. "One last thing…" He stomped down hard and Bobby had a new thing to blubber about. He placed his foot on the guy's chest and leaned down. "Next time ya go anywhere near her and I hear about it, I _will_ kill ya." His eyes flicked up to check on Bet, who was still frozen like a statue. "Anyone who knows me knows I love killin' assholes…unfortunately, you qualify as an asshole. Luckily, Bet's an absolute sweetheart and she's been begging me not to kill ya." He chuckled sadistically. "I dunno why, but like I said…you're lucky." He spun on his boot heel and smiled warmly at Bet as if he hadn't just beaten a man half to death. "Ya ready to go?"

Her eyes were wide and frightened. "We're not just going to leave him, are we?!" She asked frantically.

Hancock shrugged. "S'up to you. We could just tell the guards where he is on our way out…you know…to give him time to stew before they patch 'im up."

Bet was silent the entire time up until they were about to leave. She quietly let guards know the gist of what had happened. She made sure to get Hancock out of there before anyone showed up to question them further. She stopped talking again after that and Hancock got the distinct feeling she wasn't happy with him. They'd been back on the road for hours, but he couldn't stand the cold-shoulder treatment any longer. "Hey, sugar bomb-"

"I don't feel like talking right now." She said politely, but there was an edge to her voice that hurt him a little.

"I'm sorry-"

Her laugh was acerbic. "No, you're not." She rounded on him and dropped the rope handle of the wagon. "I asked you to stop, Hancock, but you ignored me. That's why I'm pissed, okay? You could have stopped after you got him off me, but you had to make a damn point or some shit and-" She sighed and she felt a tiny bit guilty because she knew he was only trying to help her in his own way. "I was terrified that they'd hear him screaming, find you beating him up, and end up shooting you!" She was tearing up because she was angry and ready to curl into a sobbing mess at the same time. "If you died trying to do something stupid to protect me…" She grabbed his shoulders and tried to shake some sense into his thick head. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway? Why do you care so much about it?"

He crossed his arms and his thin mouth became only a line. "No one gets to treat ya like that. You don't deserve it. Why do I care? Because you're one hell of a friend and I take care of my friends." He broke a little when she started to sniffle and turned her face away from him. "Babe, you're the sweetest thing alive. I don't wanna see anyone take that spark outta your eyes. I can't see how anyone with a functioning brain could throw ya away like he did." He wanted to say more, but he bit his tongue to keep it from slipping out. It was too soon.

She swallowed hard to force the tears away. She smiled wanly at him. "Okay…I'm still not happy you risked your neck like that, but as long as it doesn't happen again-"

"That, sugar bomb, depends entirely on _him_." He interjected with a huff. "I wasn't kiddin' about killin' 'im." He didn't back down at the harsh look she shot him. "I'm serious, anyone messes with ya and they'll have me to answer to."

She grabbed the handle and went back to hauling the scrap. "You're not my bodyguard." She muttered.

He grinned broadly. "Are ya sure? I wouldn't mind guardin' your body…" Her head shot up like she'd been stung and he saw a blush staining her cheeks.

The innuendo wasn't lost on her. "Stop that."

He turned his eyes back to the road ahead. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about, sister."

"Stop being ridiculously charming. It's not fair." She said with an annoyed groan. She hung her head. "You suck."

"No, I lick." He barked a laugh when the blush grew to envelop her entire face. "Are ya still mad?" He asked to test his luck. "By the way, what was he trying to get ya to do before?"

She sighed in defeat and shook her head. Why did he always make her so disconcerted and flustered? She tried to shove away the reason that his light-hearted flirting had affected her so much. She just wasn't ready to deal with that yet. She wasn't ready to confront the reason why his laugh made her heart skip a beat or the reason why his easy confidence made her feel safe at his side. So, she merely gritted her teeth and forced it away before she said something stupid to him. "He wanted me to steal drugs from you." She glared at the ground. "I told him there was no way I could ever do a friend dirty like that." Her unhappy expression hardened into restrained anger. "I'm not a thief."

He hadn't been expecting that and it was admittedly touching. He hadn't been looking for any kind of loyalty or dedication from the newest addition to his little community; only respect. Within the past twenty-four hours, she'd extended a hand of actual friendship to him _and_ even honored that friendship against the wishes of someone she'd been living in fear of for a long time. "Of course you're not." He surprised her with a friendly, one-armed hug. "You're too clumsy for that." He could see she was forcing herself not to laugh even though she smacked at his chest to protest his relentless teasing.

The strained mood passed in the wake of their gentle banter and jokes just as fog is blown away by a strong wind. He realized that, with some coaxing from him, she felt confident enough to open up more and make a few light-hearted jabs of her own. She was funny, but not so much in the way of telling actual jokes. It was more the way she said or reacted to things, but it was less of a self-aware type of humor and more of a unique, slightly nonsensical viewpoint or reasoning that struck him as hilarious. Her sense of humor was a bit dark, which surprised him because it was hard to reconcile his impression of her as 'innocent to a fault' with the same girl who fell into a fit of giggles recounting a story of an extremely fat cat with a tendency to smother rad-rats to death with its fat rolls.

He'd always loved making people laugh and he knew he was funny, but seeing her eyes light up was really something special. He brought out all the stops; every single story he could think of to make her break out in side-splitting laughter. He used every ounce of oratory skill he had, which was pretty decent even without the egregious amount of Mentats he took on a daily basis, and he had her in tears several times before they even hit downtown. He calmed it down a bit because it wasn't exactly wise to make much noise in a semi-enclosed area full of things that'd love to wreck their shit, but it didn't kill the warm feeling in his chest that bloomed whenever she'd glance over and smile with those Cupid's bow lips.

When they were safely back in town, he was reluctant to leave her. He deftly procured a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "You ever have one of these, sugar bomb?" He asked her and offered one up to her. She stared at it uncertainly, so he stuck it between his lips, cupped his hands around the end, and lit the end with a flick of his lighter. He passed it over to her and watched her intently. "Suck in through the filter…yeah, ya got it." She immediately started coughing hard and he grinned as he slapped her on the back. Her eyes watered and smoke went billowing out of her mouth as she gagged. "It hits everyone like that the first time." He suddenly realized that she'd been coughing for much longer than she should have been. "Babe?"

She held up a finger to request him to give her another moment. "Those…smell…a hell of a lot…better on you than they actually taste." She croaked between hacking coughs. Her throat felt raw like she'd inhaled caustic fumes. She cleared her throat and her coughing spasms finally eased for the most part.

Her comment didn't fly over his head. "You make a habit of sniffin' me?" He couldn't resist teasing her; he loved seeing her cheeks light up like a street sign and break out into stammers. It was adorable. This young woman was nothing like Nora. Nora was an ass-slaying slasher capable of mass destruction who wore the dirt of the Commonwealth like it was a cultured fashion. Bet, despite her adaptability and intelligence, seemed a bit on the fragile side. Still, she did have her merits, Hancock thought as he followed her inside with an eye that traveled a bit lower than was particularly decent.

Bet had never been so happy to see a bed in her entire existence. She hit the top of the last flight, swung up the door, and flopped down on to the mattress of her room with relish. Hancock looked on with amusement as she stripped off her shoes and socks. She massaged her feet and winced as she hit a blister. Scavenging was hard work and they had been on the road for so long that her blisters had blisters. She gulped down a small dose of Radaway with a bit of purified water; the choice between growing a new arm out of her stomach and breaking out in hives was an easy one.

Her stomach made a loud protest. She hadn't even realized how ravenously hungry she was until that moment. "I could go for one of Gram's mutfruit pies." She said dreamily. "Or a huge Brahmin burger."

"I could go for a nice steak." Hancock replied with a grin. "My treat?"

She pretended to be scandalized. "Me? Out for dinner with the notorious Mayor of Goodneighbor, what _will_ people say?"

As it turns out, people didn't give half a fuck who their mayor happened to be out with, which was quite the relief for her. They ran into Hal on the stairs. He was on his way out with a pretty brunette ghoul. He waved briefly before securing an arm around his date's waist and leaving. The bar was sparsely populated; only Magnolia, Charlie, and a handful of ghouls were there. Hancock nodded in acknowledgment as several of the patrons waved. A couple stood up and approached him. "We heard Jack's got a time out." The male ghoul rasped quietly. "Thought ya said to cut 'im some slack on account of what happened to his old lady."

Bet turned her head slightly to look up at her friend. "He put a gun to someone's head." Hancock's expression was dark, but his tone remained firm.

"Yeah, well, any idea when he'll be back?" The female ghoul interrupted.

"I told him he'd do well to stay outta town for a while, so he'll probably be back in a couple of weeks." Hancock's reply did not seem to sit well with the pair.

"What happened to Jack's wife?" She asked. Was this the information that she'd suspected Hancock had been keeping from her?

The couple looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "Thought ya knew, everyone's been talking about it for ages." The lady ghoul said in a surprised tone of voice. She glanced around the nearly empty bar, and then lowered her voice. "Jack and Marcy worked for KL-E-0 and Daisy as scavvers. One day, they're comin' back from a huge haul, ya see, an' they're tired. So they're not exactly payin' attention to the route they take and they run a bit too close to Diamond City. A guard spots 'em and he thinks they're tryin' to sneak in cuz ghouls aren't allowed in that hoity-toity place. Well, he makes a big deal over it, an' stops them from goin' anywhere until a few of his buddies show up. Jack and Marcy get fed up an' try to just leave. They get about twenty feet before shots ring out." She made a scoffing noise. "'Warning shots', supposedly, one of which hits Marcy square in the back of the head. She's dead instantly, of course." She sighed heavily. "Poor Jack, too. Marcy was the only person he had in this world. Nobody did anything, of course. Murderin' a ghoul isn't much worse than killin' an animal these days." She shook her head sadly. "Worst thing is, we heard tell that the piece of shit that did it has been bragging about it recently now that the initial excitement has cooled down."

"You think he might want to go after the guy." Hancock's mouth was set in a hard line.

The female ghoul calmly met his intense gaze. "Would you blame him if he was? The way I see it, he thinks he's got nothin' to lose, so he's gonna try to get that murdering son of a bitch even if it's his last act."

Bet placed her hand on Hancock's shoulder. "Let's help him get his justice."

"Are you insane?" Hancock's jaw dropped. "The whole of Diamond City guard would be out to get you. Hell, they might even attack Goodneighbor!"

"I'm not saying we should go in willy-nilly with guns drawn ready to bust some ass." She replied, slightly miffed that he had assumed she'd take such a reckless course of action. "You mentioned a while ago that there's a new mayor of Diamond City. Maybe, if we bring the situation to her attention, she would bring the hammer down on the murderer."

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, babe, but that chance is nil to zip." The lady ghoul said bitterly.

"We still have to try." She turned to Hancock. "Surely, she would allow you in to discuss the matter on the grounds that your citizens were harmed within her jurisdiction?"

"Doll, you are still speakin' English, right? Talk to Nora if you wanna use that lawyer lingo." Hancock chuckled.

She knew only a little about Nora, but she did know a little about the woman's pre-War origins. "Wait, Nora was a lawyer?" He nodded. "Why didn't you tell me that before! It's perfect! She'll know how to deal with this. We just have to wait until they get back, and then we can go to Diamond City. She can negotiate with the mayor and-"

"Jeez, doll, exactly how many projects are you planning to take on?" He teased. His eyes twinkled with mirth. "Are ya gonna march for ghoul rights next?"

She straightened to her full height of five feet. "If that is what it takes, then yes." She was invested in making a name for herself in her new hometown and this was just the sort of thing she needed to do to earn people's trust. She wanted to make sure people felt almost as comfortable letting her help them as they did about going to Hancock for help.

Unfortunately, Sturgis and Nora were not due back for another few days. The time spent waiting seemed to drag on despite the fact that she was spending the free time between fixing up her new home and setting up the area designated for her still. She'd had to pay out the ass for a shit-ton of Abraxo cleaner just to get the smell of death out. She tore up the moth-eaten carpets, busted up old drawers for scrap wood, and did general maintenance on the place.

Hancock had not seen her for several days because of the huge amount of mayoral duties that had built up during their time out scavenging. Occasionally, he would look out onto the street and watch her hauling a pack full of cleaner and dish rags back from Daisy's junk shop, along with a couple of buckets filled with purified water. Once all of the assorted paperwork and meetings had been attended to, he decided to go visit.

Walking into the warehouse was a completely different experience than it had been only a short while ago. The smell of decay was gone and replaced by a fresher smell he couldn't quite place. There was not a speck of dust on any surface and all of the broken furniture had either been fixed to the best of her ability or thrown out. The first floor was a completely open space now with the exception of the three large vats and a sack full of milk bottles.

"Is someone there?" He heard Bet call from the upper floor and quick footsteps pounded down the stairs. A poofy head of short curls rounded the corner. "Oh, hi Hancock!" Her voice was light, airy, and sounded much happier than the last time they had spoken. She ran up and caught him around the waist in an enthusiastic hug.

"You're certainly full of energy." He grinned down at her. If anyone had asked him about the frail, unimpressive young woman's chances in the Commonwealth, he would have said she had none. Yet, she had a hidden strength. She'd turned out to be a survivor in the end despite the nearly insurmountable odds against her. The little vaultie was tougher than he could have ever guessed.

She had quite the little set up on the two upper floors of the four-story building. She showed him her office first. She'd painted the walls Vault-Boy blue, cushioned the floor with several rugs, and set up a desk beside three filing cabinets, all of which he'd watched her muscle through the gates of Goodneighbor. Two couches intended for waiting were placed against the wall and were separated by a side table that was populated solely by a sad-looking plant and an ashtray. Even the bashed-in door had been removed and replaced, which he asked about since he didn't remember watching her lug in a new door. "Oh, I asked for a favor from Hal. He didn't mind at all. He's really good with stuff like that. He helped with a lot of the scavenging and cleaning, too." She replied happily. His stomach twisted a little at her tone, though he chose to ignore it.

After the office, she towed him upstairs to show him the room she'd transformed into her bedroom. She had scrubbed the tiny, dirty window clean so that it gave a clear view of the streets of Goodneighbor far below. A black couch sat on the right with two somewhat matching black armchairs angled on each side. A low coffee table was placed a couple of feet away. She had repainted the walls red to cover the stains on the old wallpaper. She had hung several abstract paintings on the walls as well, probably to cover holes that she couldn't fix or other such imperfections. The concrete floor had been covered with a number of decorative rugs. A decently clean bed with a slightly rusty, metal frame was situated in a corner with a clean, comfy pillow and three or four throw blankets. Heathcliff the bear sat in his usual place of honor, while another slightly droopy potted plant had been placed on a bureau at the foot of the bed. "What do you think?" She asked excitedly. "It took a while, but it's done." She chuckled. "Well, except for the giant hole in the floor, that is. That just has to wait until Sturgis and Nora get back with some wooden planks." Just then, there was a loud crash from downstairs. "Speak of the devil!" She exclaimed and rushed downstairs ahead of him to greet her guests.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: **PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU CONTINUE.** I just wanted to stop for a moment and say thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed this story so far. It's nice to know that you all truly enjoy it because I've spent a year and four months writing this out and getting it to the point where I was satisfied with the plot, the characterization, the degree of detail, the quality of dialogue, and other such things. It is pretty much finished, so you won't need to worry that I'll give up on it. I've just been taking the time to run it past Grammarly to re-check it for really obvious errors. Also, I wanted to make a note on my OC. One of my main reasons for giving her the backstory that I did was to emphasize how abuse can literally shape a person and how hard it can be to reclaim one's life after a long history of it. So many people tend to use 'abused' characters to garner sympathy from the audience, which is a cheap and lazy writing tactic, in my opinion. Unfortunately, the abuse is often mentioned once and then never mentioned again or the character ends up seeming to be overly dramatic about it. This is not my intention. I intend to portray a character who has gone through real trauma, both mental and physical, and to make it truly feel like it has stuck with her. I want her to evolve because I firmly believe that while a person's past cannot be changed, that one can change as a person. I hope I'm making that transition clear and believable. I welcome criticism if that is not the case. **On a final note, I would like to point out that there is a lot of graphic stuff from this chapter on and if you are likely to be upset (because the word 'triggered' is ridiculously overused) by; in-depth mentions of past abuse, evidence of abuse, graphic violence and bloodshed, explosions, drug use, mental/emotional abuse, death or mentions of death, past situations involving dubious consent to sexual activity, and/or giant green-skinned humanoids, I politely suggest that you should avert your attention to another story.** If you've stuck through this entirely, thank you. If you got bored half-way through and gave up, thank you. If you skipped this entirely, thank you. Peace, love, and peanut butter ~Melda

P.S. Did anyone else writing a Fallout fic with Grammarly have it try to correct 'mutfruit' to 'butt fruit'? Lmao.

What they found at the bottom of the steps was hardly anything to be joyful about, however. Sturges had stumbled through the door. He looked beaten to hell; bruises covered a majority of his body and congealed blood had matted one side of his pompadour down. Dirt and dust, the amount of which managed to exceed the typical Commonwealth coating, made his skin a shade darker in some areas. Rivulets of sweat made tracks in the dirt on his skin. "I…ugh..need-." He pitched forward, but Hancock caught him before the man's head hit the floor.

"Why did you come here first and not go straight to Dr. Amari?!" Bet exclaimed loudly as she cut the straps on his armor to get it open to examine his wounds

Sturges shook his head and seemed dazed. "I…uh..I don't know." He snapped angrily. "Stop asking me questions!" He backed up into the wall and slid down it with a furious, yet confused expression. Hancock started to check him over, but the man just waved a dismissive hand. He was unwilling to leave the injured man, yet he was also bereft of any other choice. After a second of indecision, Hancock sprinted down the street to the Memory Den to hunt down the doctor.

Amari, upon hearing the situation, rushed out the door and into the warehouse. Bet pressed a blood-soaked rag over the mechanic's worst wound; a gash that ran from the middle of his forehead to his ear. "I don't see any bullet wounds-" Bet said with worry evident in her voice. "but I'm not sure if we should jostle him around much just to check."

"If he does have a bullet in him, then it would be more important than the head wound." Hancock commented as he prepared a syringe of Med-X for Amari to give to Sturges.

"We'll have to do it, but I don't want to risk moving him too much. Get me some purified water, please." Amari said to the concerned mayor.

"What about the cut on his head?" Bet asked almost desperately. "It won't stop bleeding!"

Amarie swiftly checked over the typically cool-tempered man, who was thrashing about and resisting their attention to the best of his ability. "I believe he has a concussion, and his shoulder will need to be put back into place, but otherwise he's alright." She pressed a cool cloth firmly against the split and torn skin. "Hold that there, please." She handed a can of purified water to Hancock and ordered him to clean the mechanic's main wound as best as he could while she checked him over.

Sturges was very pale at this point and was gasping in pain. He grabbed at Bet's shirt and groaned as Amari prodded around in search of any bullet holes. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You need….go to Diamond City…." He grunted as isopropyl alcohol was poured on to his wound to sterilize it. "Nora…she's hurt...hurt real bad."

She couldn't stand the sight of her friend being in such pain. "Is it possible to give him more Med-X?"

Amari glared at her through blood-spattered glasses. "No, that will thin his blood and that is the last thing we need, but a small shot of Calm-X should calm him down enough to keep him from struggling." Satisfied that no bullets had hit him, Amari went on to administer a stimpack into the thick muscle of his left arm. She growled in frustration because his forehead wound continued to leak blood while Bet and Hancock frantically fumbled through the orders she occasionally barked at them.

Bet held Sturges's head gently and petted his hair to the side as yet another wave of pain passed through him. "Ssh, it'll be alright." Hancock expertly found a vein in his friend's arm. He gave him the shot of Calm-X as quickly as he could. "Alright, just relax." He advised as he prepared to reduce the joint. "On the count of three, this arm will go back in. One, two-" He forced the bone back in and the mechanic let out an inhuman snarl of profanity mixed with indecipherable noises.

"You…said..on…three…." He growled.

Hancock crossed his arms. "Yeah, I lied. I do that on occasion." He said lightly. On the inside, however, his stomach was churning with anxiety. Blood covered the floor, yet the bleeding wound on his forehead had not slowed. He kneeled down to place a comforting hand on Bet's shoulder. "He'll be alright, sugar bomb." He struggled to hide the uncertainty in his own voice. "When we find the fuckwads that did this to him, I swear they'll suffer ten times as badly."

She looked appalled as Dr. Amari resolved to close the cut with stitches. "He'll be okay, though, right?" She cast a pleading look at the doctor, but Amari just sighed and wiped her forehead clean of sweat with the sleeve of her lab coat. A deep, unsettling fear for her friend's life weighed Bet down like a set of concrete shoes and she was drowning in a sea of uncertainty.

Hancock's expression was grim as he tightened his grip on her shoulder. "You'd better believe it. He's a fighter." Sturges had finally passed out from the pain of the procedure, so now the room was quiet except for the injured man's ragged breathing.

"We still can't risk moving him. We'll just have to put a few blankets under him and a few on top to keep him warm and comfortable. Even the most minor head wounds tend to bleed a lot, but he's still at risk for infection." Dr. Amari stood and retrieved her equipment, but left a handful of stimpacks. "One a day." She ordered. "I'll be around to check on him tomorrow morning."

Bet tucked her thickest blanket over her friend. Sturges was eased up on the mattress from her bed, which Hancock had lugged from upstairs. He decided to just keep her company in the office that night, just in case Sturges needed further help.

They used their coats for blankets and slept on the worn couches. It wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep for several reasons. Personally, he sat up for several hours staring intently at the ceiling. He wanted to be ready at the first sign of distress from his burly friend. Thankfully, the uncomfortable night passed with no problems. Still, he did not wake up until well into the next afternoon. Bet had to force back tears as she fed her friend Cram and gave him water to wash it down. Afterwards, she grabbed a stimpack and injected it. Finally, she checked his stitches. She was relieved to know he hadn't pulled any of his stitches out in his sleep, but fear and worry still gnawed like ravenous wolves at her guts.

Sturges recovered much more quickly than anyone expected. However, it was still a solid twenty-four hours before he felt well enough to hold a conversation. "So what happened out there?" Hancock handed him a plate of Blamco Mac 'N Cheese. In between scarfing down huge spoonfuls, Sturges told them a rather strange story. "We were on our way of Diamond City after trading for some of the stuff Bet would need, but Nora stopped by the security booth to ask Danny why he looked so nervous. Apparently, there was going to be an inspection by the new mayor that day." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that, the elevator doors slid open and in walked Mayor Miller. Nora was about to leave, but the mayor wouldn't leave us alone. She followed us all the way out to the gates and harped on Nora the entire way there. It was somethin' about letting ghouls waltz right in with no regards to the law." Sturges chuckled and winked at Hancock. "I'm guessin' she meant you, Jack."

Hancock grinned back. "I don't know about waltzing in, but I've done my fair share of staggering through those gates. Gotta be half drunk to even think about goin' near the place."

They all shared a laugh. Sturges gulped down some water before continuing his story. "Anyway, the four were just outside the gates when it happened. A band of super mutants came barreling at us. The turrets and the guards were letting off round after round, but it didn't seem to faze those things at all. A suicide with a bomb tucked into the crook of his arm was leadin' them on and I was sure our time had come. Fortunately, I guess, one of the bullets managed to hit the bomb and set it off before he was close enough to actually kill us. I was the closest to the explosion and it knocked me back against the wall. I remember my skull hit the wall and then I think I blacked out for a moment." He rubbed his head ruefully. "When I came to, the dust was clearing up a bit. I guess the muties were pretty pissed off because they started lighting us up like nobody's business. I watched Nora take a couple slugs, but I could barely move to help her. Danny, though, he was all up in that scrap. The mayor was cowering behind him while he tried to beat them off with his bat, but they just knocked him aside like he was made of paper. He flew a couple of feet and slid head-first into an old lamppost. Nora had collapsed at that point, I was barely conscious, and Danny was too dazed to do anything when one of the mutants snagged the mayor and took off. They hadn't gone far by the time Danny regained his senses and he got up, grabbed his bat, and went after 'em. Nora and I tried to stop him, but she was losing blood fast and I wasn't much better off." He shook his head sadly. "I hope that kid's alright." His shoulders drooped guiltily.

"It's not your fault." Bet interjected. She reached out and squeezed his hand gently in an effort to provide comfort. "It's a miracle the bomb didn't kill all of you outright."

He smiled gratefully at her, but his eyes still seemed a bit haunted. "I lugged Nora back into the city and handed her over to the doc there. Valentine came rushing out of their house and I don't think I'll ever forget the look on that man's face when he saw how torn up she was." He shuddered as if the memory chilled him to the bone. "He tried to make me stay, but I'd gotten it into my head that you two should know what happened as soon as possible." He laughed weakly. "I suppose I become a stubborn blockhead when I'm concussed. I'll have to apologize next time I see him." He sucked in a sharp breath as Bet gave him his daily stimpack.

Bet decided to ignore the urge to chide him for not seeking medical attention before coming to get them. "Do you know if Nora will make it?" She asked him urgently while she disposed of the empty stimpack.

He ran a hand through his mussed pompadour. "I'm not sure. She was looking pretty bad. Preston would put his foot so far up my ass that I'd taste leather for life if she died." He made a face. "Goddamn, her detective would probably give him the lube, too." Bet sighed wearily and wiped her hand across her forehead.

"I'm so sorry." She said quietly. "I should never have asked for your help."

Sturges frowned sternly. "Shit happens in the Wastes. You had no idea that those muties would hang around so close to Diamond City. It's just as much your fault as it is mine if you wanna play the blame game." He grinned. "Did you have a look through my packs, though? We got some good stuff for your machine. I just can't wait until I'm back on my feet."

"I really appreciate your help with the machine, but I wish no one had gotten hurt over it." She thought for a moment. "Shouldn't we keep looking for Danny? I mean, the new mayor sounds like she's not exactly a great person, but we should put in the effort to find them both."

Sturges nodded. "It'll probably be pretty hard to find them. There's no tellin' where they're holed up at the moment."

"We gotta try, at least." Hancock played absently with his switchblade. "As soon as we can, we'll leave Goodneighbor and start hunting down the two of them."

"And we should stop by Diamond City to make sure Nora is alright." Bet added. "Maybe, if we can find them, the city will be grateful enough to give in to our request." She suggested hopefully, though she was not truly convinced that would happen. Bigotry was one of the things that assholes tended to cling to like a lifeline in any situation. "We should leave now to have any real hope of getting them back alive. We can ask Daisy to look after Sturges while we're gone."

Bet immediately set off to Daisy's pawn shop to ask her to look after their friend. In the meantime, Hancock set himself to the task of packing their bags for the journey. He took a quarter of the food and water that she had in her 'pantry' (a nice word she used for the beat-up china cabinet) to stuff into her tiny rucksack. He shook his head in amazement; the weapon which she'd bought the day they met was still the only weapon she owned. She didn't even have a knife, for fuck's sake! He grabbed an extra set of clothes for her, the small bit of worn leather armor she'd modified with KL-E-0's help, and headed over to the State House where he could further equip them. He stuffed a Brahmin-hide bag with medical essentials; stimpacks, bandages, antiseptic, and some med-x. He brought only a single tin of mentats since they would need to travel light and fast. After that, he opened up the safe full of assorted weapons and ammo that he'd found, looted, or bought. He grabbed a .10mm pistol, a second shotgun, and a single sniper rifle plus more than 200 bullets for each gun. He slung the rifle onto his back, and then shoved the other two guns and the ammo into a third bag. He had the presence of mind to grab a fourth (empty) bag, just in case they were lucky enough to find some loot on the way, and shoved it in. Satisfied with his preparation, he returned to her home. Daisy was already there and instructed on what to do with Sturges in their absence. The female ghoul gave them both a tight hug before they said their goodbyes.

Hancock handed her the bag of food and water, the rifle, and the pistol and the ammo for those weapons. The med bag he took for himself as well as the second shotgun and the rest of the ammunition. He didn't need much armor himself because Nora had kindly woven ballistic fiber into his usual duds months ago. They headed out of Goodneighbor with a mission on their minds and hope in their hearts.

Bet walked quickly over the crumbling asphalt and occasionally tripped on the uneven surface. Hancock darted on through the ruined houses on her right. She could hear him searching for useful supplies. However, he hadn't managed to find anything so far and it had been about two hours since they'd left.

Happily, she considered how lucky they were that they'd encountered no signs of raiders, mutated animals, or even a single super mutant. The way that Sturges had described it had her guessing that the band of muties had only just recently set up camp dangerously close to Diamond City. They were still at least a two and a half hour trek from the Jewel of the Commonwealth, which meant they were reasonably safe.

Hancock returned to her side clutching a couple of Jet canisters, a lighter, a half-empty pack of cigarettes, and a single dose of Med-X. "Jackpot!" He proclaimed proudly. Nora had taught him to be skilled with lockpicking (well, more skilled than he'd been before) during their time together. These goodies had been hiding away in a fairly secure lockbox, but he'd sprung the lock after a few tries. He placed the goods in the chem bag.

"Don't you always pick on Nora for hoarding junk?" She joked. She peered ahead of them with her hand shielding the sun from her eyes. She could have sworn she'd caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

"First of all, that is not junk." He grinned rakishly. "Secondly, I only tease her because her reactions are hilarious." Bet's eyes flicked to another hint of movement over his shoulder. "What? You see somethin'?" He turned on his heel and caught sight of the same shadow she'd noticed move quick as a flash around the next building. He put a finger to his lips, pulled out his shotgun and crept closer to the corner that the shadow had darted around. He charged into the alley and lit it up with a warning shot. There was a shriek of terror, then a short pause. "Get over here, you aren't gonna believe this!"

She scrambled her way over the rubble of a garden wall, and then rounded the corner into the alley. Hancock pointed at a pale, shivering man in torn clothes. "It's Danny." He said grimly.

"M-mayor Hancock?" The young man said incredulously. "I thought you two were raiders!"

"Same here." The ghoul replied. "How in the hell did you get away from the super mutants?"

Danny shuffled his feet shyly. "Well, after I caught up with them I stayed out of sight. I never actually got caught by any of them. I spent a few days watching their camp, memorizing their routines, and I even got a good look at their stock of weapons since they don't really bother to hide them. About two days ago, I accidentally made a noise and they found me out. I tried to get back to the city, but they had most of my escape routes blocked off. I outran them and hid in a dumpster, which they were too dumb to check. I spent that night in the dumpster, because I was too afraid to move from that spot. After that, I was pretty lost, so I've been wandering in the general area hoping that a passing trader or drifter could show me the way back."

Bet appeared confused as she listened to his story. "How did you get lost? I would have thought a kid growing up in Diamond City would have practically memorized the area in and around the place."

Danny bit his lip. "I..uh…haven't ever actually been outside the walls." He told her hesitantly. He blushed out of embarrassment. "But, it's not just me. Most of the people who were born there haven't gone outside. Besides, I've only been a guard for around six months now. I'm still green and they only want their most experienced soldiers patrolling outside the walls."

She handed over a bottle of water. "With the exception of everyone being too afraid to leave, I'd say that's the smartest thing I've heard about Diamond City to date." He drank down the entire can in under a minute. "You're a brave man. There aren't many people who'd have done what you did."

Hancock gave him a couple of mutfruits and a snack cake. "She's right, kid. Ya know, I think you should talk to Nora about joinin' the Minutemen sometime."

Danny nearly choked on his fruit. "Nora's alive? Jesus, she took five bullets by my count! That woman is a beast…"

She chuckled. "Don't we know it! She's in pretty bad shape, but she's hanging in there from what we heard. Sturges walked all the way back to Goodneighbor with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder to give us the heads up. He's resting back at my place."

"Do you think we should check up on her first?" Danny wiped his mouth on his ripped sleeve. "Or should we keep trying to get to the mayor?" He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "They aren't going to let you in there to see her, Mayor Hancock."

Bet helped him to his feet. "Like Hell, they won't. C'mon Danny, let's get you back to Diamond City. You can grab some armor and some proper weapons, and then we can all go back to searching for Mayor Miller."

"T-thanks….uh…what's your name?" He asked by way of conversation.

She gave him a small smile. "Bet, it's nice to finally meet you. Apparently, you're one of the few decent people in Diamond City."

Danny blushed. "Well, it's not just me. Travis is a pretty cool guy, too, and I've always thought that the Bobrov brothers were nice." Hancock half-listened to the conversation. "Then, there's Piper, but she's kind of an acquired taste, you know? I'm sure you've met or heard about Nick. Everybody knows him. Takahashi's not bad either, but a conversation with him always feels a bit one-sided. Is this your first time going to Diamond City?"

"Yeah, but I've not heard very many good things." Bet's answer made Hancock smirk. "Nick sounds like he enjoys living there, though."

"Nick's easy-going, but sometimes people give him a hard time." Danny mentioned. "I don't like the way people treat him and if I had a say in it, Diamond City would be open to anyone." He paused for a moment. "Nick was my only friend as a kid. I was pretty puny, so the other kids loved to pick on me. He'd always pick me up and dust me off, and if he had a few extra caps he would take me to Power Noodles."

Bet looked both shocked and sad. "Why do people give him a hard time? He sounds so sweet!" Hancock had forgotten that she was still mostly ignorant of the whole issue with Synths and the Institute. It reminded him that so many people didn't really believe that the Institute was gone and, because they only knew how to live their lives in fear, they continued to dread the 'threat' of synths. Nora's romance with Nick was considered a rather scandalous and sordid affair. However, no one could do anything to them, except talk in hushed whispers because no one dared to challenge the notorious General.

"Because he's a synth." Danny told her, surprised.

"Is that all?" She frowned and shook her head. "I suppose I should've known. After all, if Diamond City is so prejudiced against ghouls, then why not other 'scary' non-humans." She grumbled. "It's a blessing that I live in Goodneighbor. I don't think I could handle living in a place like Diamond City." Pride swelled up in Hancock's chest, but he kept his mouth shut. He'd worked so hard to keep his town free, a place where judgment had no place, and to hear her speak so highly about it to another person was refreshing, to say the least.

"Did you say you live in Goodneighbor?" Danny paled a little and glanced over his shoulder at Hancock, who caught his eye with a brilliant smile. The red-headed man whipped his head back around and lowered his voice. "Have…have you ever been…you know…shanked there?"

Bet gave him a look comprised partially of disbelief and partially of amusement. "You can't be serious? Of course not! Is that what people say about it?"

"Well, it's got a bit of a…uh…reputation." Danny froze when Hancock clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"A gloriously disreputable reputation! And we're all proud of it." The Mayor proudly shined his fingernails on his coat. "To answer your question, my man, I will have you know that I've done my fair share of the shanking that goes on in my town. Although, we usually reserve it for special occasions." He grinned widely at them and she snickered at his joke.

"It's a Goodneighbor tradition to shank your mother-in-law on your wedding night." Bet interjected.

Hancock chuckled. "In Goodneighbor, feeling stabby is our motto!"

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry I asked." Danny rolled his eyes while his companions laughed at his faux pas. "Seriously, though, what are we going to do when we get back to the city?"

Her smile disappeared. "If we all run in, maybe we can make it to Nora's place before they can catch us."

"Well, it's not as if they could shoot us." Danny said. "None of the guards are allowed to carry guns if they aren't working outside patrols ever since-" He bit his lip. "I don't know if you heard about the incident with that ghoul woman, but-"

Bet and Hancock shared a look. "Yeah, we know about that. It's one of the reasons we're so anxious to rescue your new mayor. We think that we could change her mind if she's rescued by a ghoul and that maybe she'll change the rules."

Danny fiddled with the tattered edges of his shirt. "That's pretty ambitious and, guys, I'm not gonna lie about my opinion of taking your chances with that. I've met Mayor Miller and she's from the Upper Stands. I know you're not familiar with Diamond City politics, Bet, but that means she's from old money and even older prejudice. She's probably isn't keen on changing anything even if one of her rescuers is a ghoul."

"We still have to try." She replied stubbornly. "If it means getting justice for someone, and potentially saving a person's life, then we will do everything we can to help."

Hancock couldn't repress a wide and approving grin from growing on his lips. He was fully unrepentant of his decision to offer Bet a place in his town. She was proving herself to be exactly his style of trouble; the type of trouble that gave a middle finger to tyrants and sling bullets into the faces of bigots. He honestly hoped that she intended to stay in Goodneighbor for good. His town always had room for someone like her. Even if she wasn't the most adept fighter, he'd be more than willing to bring her into a real firefight now. He'd been apprehensive before they'd left, and honestly, he'd planned to go after the mayor on his own because he wasn't sure if she was ready to deal with super mutants, yet.

Now, however, he was rebuking himself. She deserved a chance to prove herself. He just had to hope that she wouldn't get herself killed. She was decent with a gun, but she'd had little hand-to-hand combat experience as far as he knew. Her upbringing had definitely put limitations on her combat skills, but at least she appeared to have a bit of confidence and drive.

"We should get Travis, Piper, and Nick to help, too." Danny's voice interrupted both the silence and Hancock's thoughts. "They're the only other people in Diamond City who've had real fighting experience."

"Sounds like we're rounding up quite the posse." Bet pointed straight ahead. "Hey, I can see the walls from here!" She took off at a run towards the stadium. Several guards were standing around the entrance to the city. A few more turrets than usual were positioned around the gate. She stopped before they got within sight of the guards, then grabbed Hancock's arm and Danny's hand.

Hancock glanced around to make sure none of the guards were looking in their direction. "We'll make a run for it on three, alright?" They nodded.

"One.." He started.

"Two…" She tightened her grip on them.

"Three!" They made a mad dash for the open gate. Shouts came from all around them. "Hey, whoa, whoa!" She turned her head in the direction of the voice. A Diamond City guard was tapping a baseball bat menacingly against his palm. "No ghouls in Diamond City, get that thing out of here." They chose to ignore him and kept running towards Home Plate. The guard reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "Did you hear me? I was talking to you, Wastelander!"

Her demeanor went from worried to furious in a split second. "I have no time for this bullshit. My friend might be dying, and if she dies before I get there I'll make you eat dirt!" She was screaming at that point and people had started to stare. The guard took a step back, but held up his bat in a warning stance.

Hancock stood between her and the scumbag guard. "Don't waste another breath on him, doll. Let's g-" The guard took a swing at his head. Thankfully, the mayor's reflexes were honed to such a degree that he was able to dodge the blow. Bet snarled at the guard and her hand went for her gun, but he stopped her. "Let's go." He pulled her forward.

They ran through the market with the guard hot on their tails. A couple of other guards followed the first asshole's lead, but Solomon 'accidentally' knocked over his case of empty jet inhalers into their path. Hancock put up a hand in a gesture of thanks as the guards slipped and fell heavily to the packed dirt of the market. He'd have to actually thank that man later, he thought as he slammed the door to Home Plate shut behind them.

Nick Valentine was pacing at the far end of the room while Doctor Sun worked frantically on Nora. She made short, pained whimpers through the leather belt she was biting down on. He had hooked her up to an IV with a bag of blood hung from the hook at the top. He snipped the medical tape he'd used to apply a fresh bandage, gave her a stimpack, and placed the expended medicinal chem on a surgical tray on her nightstand. "Five bullets to the torso, plus concussive damage from the explosion…" He mopped at his forehead with a handkerchief. "My god, Nick. How was she even still conscious?"

The synth was so beside himself that he only shook his head. He put a hand to his face in a very human display of grief. Bet and Hancock watched him cross the room and thread the fingers of his good hand through hers. "You must be Nick Valentine. I'm sorry we had to meet like this." Bet said. Her voice was feeble and shaky with emotion. "Is it really as bad as he said?" She glanced at the doctor with a horrified expression.

He pinned her with his neon eyes. "Half her ribs were broken, her collarbone is broken, she has a concussion and she's lost enough blood from the bullet wounds to bring her to the brink of death." His words sounded devoid of emotion, but one could tell that he was about to break.

"GET OUT HERE NOW OR WE'LL BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR!"

Hancock had engaged the numerous locks to keep the guards out, but the door was bending in and the wood was groaning under the pressure. Nick sighed wearily. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that's not your fan club."

Hancock cursed under his breath, but grinned. "You know me, Nickie, I have to beat 'em off me with a stick." He rushed over to Nora's bed. She'd passed out from the pain, but she was definitely in a bad way. He sat next to her. "Sturges sent us. He had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, but that man's a tank. He walked all the way to Goodneighbor."

Bet fidgeted worriedly. "We'll leave soon, but the guards-"

Nick held up a hand to stop her. "Let me talk to them, I think one of 'em is sweet on Ellie, so maybe he'll listen to me in order to get on her good side. At the very least, I can buy you three a bit of time."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us? We're going to save Mayor Miller." Danny spoke up.

"As much as I'd like to, I think it's better if I stay here to take care of my wife. There's a rooftop exit upstairs, you all need to get up there and make a break for it. The guards will take a little while to notice, so you should have enough time to do whatever you need to do." Nick pointed up at the hatch.

"We're gonna grab Piper." Hancock said.

"She's busy gathering info for an article about The Castle." Nick informed them over the increasing clamor of the guards.

"What about Travis?" Danny asked quickly.

"Travis?" Nick seemed doubtful of their choice in companions, but appeared to decide that they didn't have time to argue about it. "Yeah, I think the kid's holed up in his radio station HQ like always."

"Great, thanks, Nickie. We'll bring you back a souvenir!" Hancock pounded his old friend on the back. Nick showed them the way out, before heading out to distract the guards. They could hear him sassing the guards about bothering the gravely injured vaultie. In the meantime, they sprinted along the roofs as quietly as they could manage.

"Careful, we're gonna have to jump down." Hancock warned as they came to the end of the connected roofs. "Watch me, then you two can follow." He took a running leap and expertly rolled his way to a perfect landing.

"I-I don't think I can do this." Bet backed up from the edge. She'd always had a paralyzing fear of heights. "It's too far."

"Hey, don't worry. I promise I'll catch you. Ya trust me, right?" He opened his arms. "Close your eyes and jump."

She wanted to trust him, and she knew that every minute wasted on her fear was a minute that the guards could catch up. However, her body was refusing to move farther than a few feet towards the edge. "Bet, I'm sorry." Danny said sincerely from behind her.

"Sorry for whaaaaahhhhh!" She screamed as she felt him push her off the rooftop. The fall felt like forever and she swore that her heart stopped beating for the few seconds between the time that her feet left the roof and the time that she landed square in Hancock's arms. "OH, HOLY FUCK!" She glared at Danny as he swiftly joined them. "Don't you EVER-"

"Not the time for that, doll." Hancock shushed her and sat her back on her feet. She took a few unsteady steps, breathing hard and feeling more than little stunned. Her friends practically dragged her along the back alleys to Travis' little radio station.

Travis was in the middle of changing over holotapes when they burst inside. They gave him a very short run-down of the current situation. "I do owe Nora a favor." He reached under his desk and grabbed a small pipe pistol. "Let's go take those guys down and rescue the Mayor!"

"Hold on, you'll need more firepower than that." Hancock fished out a weapon for Travis from the rucksack. After a thought, he asked Bet to hand over the spare .10mm to Danny, too. "Are we all set?"

"I think so." Danny looked around at their ragtag band. "Let's get out of here." The guards that had gathered in front of Home Plate had dispersed in random directions to search for them. That definitely helped their odds of escaping because it would take the guards a little more time to alert each other. They cut their path through the back, around toward the Greenhouse and out into the scaffolding area that led to the Upper Stands and the Mayor's office. The guards spotted them just in time to catch a glimpse of the four of them scarpering out the gate.

Once they were far out of sight of Diamond City and its guards, they stopped to catch their breath. "You still owe me an apology for pushing me off that goddamn roof!" Bet panted.

"I said I was sorry before I pushed you." Danny said defensively. "Besides, you weren't moving and we needed to hurry up. What was I supposed to do?"

"How about not push me?" She snapped back at him. Her breathing started to slow down and she ran a hand through her short curls. "I mean, I'm sorry… shit. I just have this thing about heights-" She shook her head to snap herself out of it. "You know what? It doesn't matter. You did what you had to do. I'm sorry for being pissy about it."

"Guys, not to be the odd man out here, but I've only gotten the basics of what we're doing." Travis loaded his weapon as he spoke. "So, beyond sprinting straight into what will most likely be our untimely and gruesome deaths, do we have any sort of plan?"

"Shit, I hadn't really thought about that part yet." Hancock cursed.

"Well, I know the layout of their camp, so we have something to work with." Danny checked out his own weapon, a modified rifle that had been a gift from Nora to Hancock, to make sure there were bullets already in the magazine. "They're holed up near Trinity Tower."

"That's a favorite haunt of their kind. Did you see many of them while you were scouting the place out?" Hancock inquired.

Danny shook his head. "I did see three of those mutant dogs they keep around. The good news is; there are only the three dogs and four or five muties. The bad news is that they've somehow gotten their green mitts on a missile launcher. I saw it from a distance, but it was definitely a missile launcher."

Hancock whistled. "Damn."

"Yeah, but I don't think that they have tons of ammo for it since they tend to prefer those dinky hunting rifles." He shrugged. "It could be worse, you know. They could have machine guns or a bunch of mini-nukes. I think they used up their only suicider on the attack on Diamond City, so we should be fine in that regard."

Bet looked to Hancock for guidance. "You have the most experience with this. What should we do?"

Hancock cocked his shotgun. "We'll sneak up on 'em. Muties don't have the best reaction time if they're surprised. We'll split up into teams; team one will light 'em up with pot shots and team two will circle around back to plant these." He withdrew a huge belt lined with pockets full of frag mines from the pack.

"I've got an idea." Bet's eyes lit up when she saw the mines. "We can't just throw those down willy-nilly and just hope they step on one. We'll have to make a line of them and lead them to it."

"What do you mean?" Travis turned to her. "Show us."

She grabbed a couple of rocks to take the place of the mines. "Two of us would distract the Mutants while the other two make a line of frag mines like this." She positioned Travis and Danny on the left side of the mines and she stayed on the right side with Hancock. "Then, team two would give a signal that they were ready and team one would start high-tailing it towards the wall of mines. The mutants will give chase and set off the mines."

"That sounds pretty great, and sorry to burst your bubble, but how do we make sure that none of us get blown up in the process?" Danny pointed out.

Marie picked up a small stick to draw in the dust. "We'll act like we're going to run straight at the wall of mines, but at the last minute we run at an angle away from the danger zone. Team two should have a bit of a head start, so team one would be the only ones in immediate danger."

"Another thing, what if the blasts from the mines don't kill them right off the bat?" Travis nervously rubbed his left forearm. "We'd have to start taking shots right after the blasts. Those explosions will kick up a crap-ton of dust into the air. We'd be shooting blind."

"Trust me, muties aren't hard to spot, even in a cloud of dust we should be able to pick them out. It all sounds like a decent enough plan to me. Anyone got any more objections?" No one spoke up to answer Hancock's question. "Alright, now we gotta pick teams. Our fastest runners should be on team one, which means me and-"

"Me." Travis cut in with a tense chuckle. "I..uh..I'm really good at running, actually."

Hancock nodded at the kid. Just like so many other people she'd encountered, Nora had strengthened the boy's previously weak constitution. "That leaves one last thing; the signal."

Bet pointed to the laser pistol in Travis's hands and asked him to trade weapons with Danny. "These things are pretty easy to see from a distance. He'll fire up a shot when we've finished laying down the mines. Then you guys will know to get the fuck outta Dodge."

Hancock handed the frags over to her and Danny. "Run as soon as ya let off that shot, and don't look back to see if we're followin'." His face was gravely serious. Fucking with super mutants wasn't something people like Danny, Travis, or Bet did on the reg'. He knew the probability of one or most of them getting killed was pretty high, so high that not even the most inexperienced gambler would take a chance on it. He knew what Nora would do; Nora would have ripped through the mutie camp in a blaze of glory even if she was outmatched. She would have done it because somebody had to try.

"Wait!" Bet dug a rag out of her pocket. "Hancock, may I borrow your knife?" He handed it over and she cut the rag into eight little pieces. She gave them each two pieces. "Don't forget to stuff these in your ears before the explosion." She tucked her own pieces back into her pocket. "We don't want to go deaf in the middle of a firefight."

He slid his knife back into the sheath he kept fastened to his pants. "Are we all set, then?" They looked at each other, and then nodded determinedly all at once. "Great, let's go kick some grass-green ass!"


	5. Chapter 5

One and a half hours northeast of Diamond City, deep into the concrete jungle of busted interstates and rusted out skyscrapers, our mismatched band of misfits halted their progress. Travis sat on his knees, hunched over behind the protection of a partially destroyed wall, and assessed their position. Hancock tapped him on the shoulder and pointed in the direction of heavy footsteps. They both ducked down behind the rubble to avoid being seen. Bet and Danny were scouting the perimeter to find a clear spot to put down the mines.

The mutie patroller stomped right by their hiding spot again, but fortune favored them and he didn't notice they were only inches from his massive feet. Several minutes went by before they dared to poke their heads up again. In the next building over, they could see one of their friends crouching low to the ground, taking pains to both avoid making any sound or being seen, and moving slowly toward their spot.

"We found a great spot on the left side of the building to draw them out. It's narrow, too, so it'll force them to bunch together." Bet whispered so quietly that her words were hardly more than a breath. "Danny is planting the mines as we speak. We'll cover them with a light coating of dust and pebbles, so they'll be harder to see."

"A patrol just went by, so be careful. We don't want the greenskin to catch you laying them out." Travis warned her with another glance in the direction that the mutant had gone. She nodded solemnly and left the way she'd come.

"Ready kid?" Hancock popped a mentat from the tin in his pocket. Travis nodded as he opened the safety of his weapon. They waited silently for the signal as they plugged their ears with the bits of rag.

Suddenly, a red beam shot up in the distance and Hancock leaped over the wall. Almost immediately, the unnerving, thunderous howl of a mutant hound broke the peace. Super mutants shouted to each other in the growing confusion. "WHERE ARE YOU, LITTLE BLEEDER?!" Roared a mutie from within the Tower.

"Over here, puke for brains!" Travis shouted back as he took aim for a mutant running at him with a tire iron. A bullet pinged as it ricocheted off of a broken metal beam behind him; several more followed the first. Travis barely dodged out of the way of the tire iron and put three slugs in the massive bicep of his attacker. Blood, brilliantly crimson and viscid, rained down in a shower over the radio host. The mutie let out an ear-rending snarl of pain.

Hancock, in the meantime, had to roll out of the way as a chunk of concrete was knocked loose by a poorly aimed missile. Another missile followed with a fizzling hiss like popping the cap off a shaken Nuka-Cola. Thankfully, this one went wide, too. The ghoul knew that the missiles would compromise the already weak integrity of the building behind them and it would be only a matter of time before it would collapse. He could only hope that the mutants would run out of missiles before it happened.

"YEAH!" He whipped his head around to see Travis shove the barrel of his gun under the chin of the mutant he was fighting and pull the trigger. Its head exploded violently in a mess of viscera and bone. "HOLY SHIT, DID YOU SEE THAT?" A timid and mild-mannered man no more, Travis Miles wiped the mutant's blood from his face with a grin of victory.

"Always knew you had in ya, kid!" Hancock's congratulations were cut short when he spotted a couple of hounds come bounding out of the Tower. "Heads up!" He got a couple of shots into the first one, but it just kept coming. Slavering and mad with bloodlust, it launched itself at him. He sidestepped the attack, but realized too late that the first attack had only been a diversion. The second hound's teeth sunk deep into his calf. "FUCK!" He bashed at its skull with the butt of his shotgun.

Travis managed to kill the other dog before it latched on to Hancock's other leg. The Mayor of Goodneighbor reloaded his trusty double-barrel while gritting his teeth against the pain. It shook its head from side to side and he could feel his flesh tearing, but he forced the business end of his gun against the neck of the beast. Two consecutive shots later, he was able to pry open the jaws of the dog to free his shredded leg. "Oh man, that looks bad." Travis groaned at the sight of the grotesque wound. He looped Hancock's arm around his shoulders. "We need to go, now!"

"No! We need to lure…..gah..the rest of them out." Hancock grunted in pain as he resisted Travis' insistent tugging.

"You could be bleeding out! I'm not leaving you here to die!" Travis shouted at him. Shots started ringing out around them all over again. It seemed that the muties had realized that their dogs had lost the fight. The final two mutants could be heard pounding down the stairs of the Tower. "Fine! Here they come, we'll stay until they're out the door."

They didn't have to wait long. The pair were soon barreling toward them, and all the while shouting insults in gravelly voices. Travis wasted no time in getting the fuck out of there. He hoisted Hancock up on his back and maneuvered his way through the destroyed streets of Boston. He had just cleared about half a mile when, blinking through the stinging mix of blood and sweat in his eyes, he saw several laser shots light up the alley ahead.

"This way! You take five more steps and you'll blow yourself to Kingdom Come!" Bet screamed from the alley.

"We told..you..heh..to run.." Hancock gasped for air as he fought not to black out from the blood loss.

"We were cornered by one of those fucking dogs." Her eyes grew wide. "Your leg-"

Danny grabbed her shoulder and hauled her father down the alley. "No time for that. Travis, this way!" The four of them zigzagged between the crumbled remains of several brick houses. Behind them, the shrieks of mutants were soon drowned out by a massive explosion; and then another, and another. Somehow, the muties managed to step on ten out of the twelve frag mines that had laid in wait for them.

The buildings around them mostly protected them from the resulting wave of force, but it was still so powerful that Bet, who was at the back of the group, was knocked forward and skidded several feet. She cried out as she landed on a jagged piece of glass sticking up out of the ground.

They all froze, afraid to move, but also afraid that the muties had managed to survive their assault. The silence was all that met their ears. Travis was the first to move. He sat Hancock down on the ground as gently as he could. Bet yelped as she yanked the glass out of her thigh. "Why is it always this leg in particular?" She watched with dismay as the blood slowly soaked her jeans. She glanced up from tending to her minor wound to see that blood was dripping down Travis's arm. "Travis?! Are you hurt, too?"

He shook his head. "No, one of the mutants came at me with a tire iron and I filled his face full of lead. This isn't my blood."

"Right on." She grinned half-heartedly at him.

Danny administered a stimpack to Hancock's calf after disinfecting it with the antiseptic they'd packed. He watched the ragged and torn skin knit itself back together. "Bet, did you bring any irradiated blood?" He noticed that the ghoul was blinking slowly and he slapped at his face. "Hey! Stay with us, man!" Hancock mumbled incoherently.

Bet dumped all the stuff in her rucksack. She gave Danny the glowing blood and knelt down beside her friend. "Are you sure he's going to be alright?" She asked worriedly.

Danny hooked up the pack to some medical tubing and a butterfly needle, and then slipped it neatly into the ghoul's arm. "Rads are supposed to cure ghouls of pretty much anything, but I'm not 100% sure. I think that dog got pretty close to an artery. The stimpack would have taken care of the wound itself, but it can't replace the blood he's lost. If this is the only pack of irradiated blood we have we need to get him back to Goodneighbor as soon as possible."

"It'll be slow going if one of us has to carry him, even if Danny and I take turns." Travis paced the short length of the alley. "Plus, we still need to check the Tower to see if the mayor is still alive."

"What about irradiated water? Nearly every puddle in the Commonwealth is at least a little irradiated." Bet proposed to the other two. "We can use my Geiger counter to find a source with the most rads." She pulled out a hefty, solid hunk of tech from her bag and clamped it around her wrist like a vambrace. It wasn't nearly as good as a Pip-Boy, but it would definitely work.

"It'll have to do the trick until we can get him to the doctor in Goodneighbor. I'd say it's a fair bet that she'd have the most experience treating ghouls." Danny frowned hard. "The only problem is that the person getting him the water would probably get a bit irradiated, too."

"I'll do it then." Bet volunteered. "We have a little Radaway and a couple more stimpacks for emergencies. You guys need to stay as healthy as possible, so you can bring Mayor Miller back to Diamond City if she hasn't been made into a sandwich yet." She chuckled. "I'm sure that there's no way I can expect the guards to let me or Hancock in after the stunt we pulled."

Danny spoke up. "I had a hand in that, too."

Bet shrugged. "Yeah, but you're a member of Diamond City Security. At worst, they'll put you in a cell for a while. Travis is a citizen and they'll probably just assume we kidnapped him."

Danny scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose you're right."

"Bet and I will go back to Trinity Tower to search the place." Travis took off his own supply pack. He pursed his lips into a thin line of indecision. He slipped his hand into his bag and pulled out a Jet inhaler. "I…uh..found this while we were doing recon on the Tower. I was gonna sell it, but…uh..-" He pressed it into Hancock's scarred palm. "Yeah…anyway, we should….ahem..we should get going."

"You're alright, kid." Hancock smiled weakly up at him. Travis turned beet-red and averted his eyes. Bet gave the Mayor a loose hug before getting to her feet to follow him.

"Be careful." Danny advised as he watched them go. "Watch out for the rest of the mines!" Bet held up a hand to show that she'd heard him without turning around.

Getting into the tower was difficult because of all the debris that had been kicked up by the mines. The entrance was littered with fresh lengths of congealed intestines, bits of flesh, powdered bones, and chunks of asphalt. "My god, it reeks in here!" She covered her mouth and nose with her shirt, but that didn't keep out the rancid stench. "I can't say if they smell better alive or dead."

Travis held out his hand to help her over a gap in the floor. "At least all these holes make for halfway decent airflow. Imagine if this were all in an enclosed space."

"I'm pretty sure I'd vomit." She kicked a bloody skeleton out of her way and grimaced. "Multiple times, profusely."

"Why do you talk like that?" Travis asked as he shoved open a door that had rusted shut.

"What do you mean?" She helped him push the door open and followed him into the stairwell.

"You know, big words and stuff."

She was taken aback by his comment, but not offended. "I guess I don't really know that I do it. I don't sound pretentious, do I?"

He laughed. "There you go again."

She gripped the handrail tightly and looked away because of her discomfiture. "Sorry, I meant; do I sound stuck-up?"

He shook his head. "No…well, sometimes I just wonder what you're saying and it makes me feel stupid. I'm pretty used to feeling stupid, though, so it's alright."

She put her hand on his arm. "You're not stupid. I'll make a conscious effort- I mean…I'll try to stop if it'll make you feel better."

"Thanks, but you shouldn't have to censor yourself just to make me more comfortable. Besides, I know you're not actively trying to sound smart. It's just a habit." They were done searching the second floor by then. "I hope they didn't put her all the way at the top." Travis sighed wearily, but he perked up when he saw her fiddling with her Geiger counter. "You know, I owe Hancock a lot." Bet looked up from the hefty device.

"That was really sweet of you to give him the Jet." She knew that the Mayor had barely packed enough mentats for himself. He really needed to stop concerning himself about using around her. She was used to it, after all. She stopped that train of thought before it led somewhere that would distract and upset her. "So, what do you mean when you say that you owe him?"

"Well, he and Nora are basically the reason I still have a job." Their shoes left tracks in the thin layer of wet blood that seeped out from the meat-sacks that littered the floor. "Long story short, they gave me the confidence I needed to be the person I'd always wanted to be. Heck, I probably wouldn't have had the guts to be standing here right now if it weren't for them."

She made a face. "Please, don't remind me about guts, right now." She lifted up her foot and watched something slimy cling to it. She scraped it off on a bench. "Nora is really important to lots of people. She's helped me, too."

"No kidding?"

"Oh, yeah. Hancock, and Nora found me in a vault. I was desperate to leave, but also terrified of going outside. Hancock gave me money, and more importantly; a home. I'd never felt like I belonged anywhere before I set up shop in Goodneighbor." She held up her Geiger counter. "Hancock gave me this a few days ago." She smiled fondly at it. "Maybe it is silly to have a favorite thing, but that's what it is. It reminds me of everything those he's have done for me."

"Nora saved Danny's life two months ago." He let her know. "I'm not sure what she's done for Hancock, but it had to have been really something because they're good friends. You mentioned you've got a shop in Goodneighbor, so what do you sell?"

She loved to talk about her pet project because she was so proud of how well it was coming along. "I don't sell anything just yet, but I'm sure I'll be ready soon. Nora, Sturges, Hancock, and I have been working on putting up a still in one of the old warehouses. I guess you could say I'm a bootlegger of sorts."

"That sounds cool." They worked their way up to the next floor and found nothing. The fifth floor was mostly caved in, but the collapsed ceiling made a nice ramp up to the sixth floor. "I'll really have a tale to tell on the radio." He smiled at her.

"Just make sure to make us all sound incredibly heroic and awesome, because I'll need to have something entertaining to listen to while I'm scrubbing my skin raw." She flicked a speck of gore off her shoulder that had fallen out of one of the bags. "Why do they hang their 'food' up like this? It's disgusting."

Travis gagged as he stepped over a bag filled with various bones; some of which were undeniably human. "I don't know…maybe it improves the flavor?" They looked at each other and shuddered.

"Ewww. Hey, wait what's this?" She picked up a faded yellow fedora that had been resting atop a miraculously intact desk. "Oh, I like it!" She immediately put it on. "How does it look? I've always wanted a hat like this."

"Looks good, maybe you should hang on to it." He grinned. "After you wash it, I mean." He made a show of pinching his nose closed in disgust.

Luckily, they did not have to search much longer to find Mayor Miller. She was bound, gagged, and slumped over the top grate of a dead fire barrel. "It looks like they were planning to roast her just as we showed up." She checked her pulse. "She's just unconscious. Help me move her, please."

Together, they lifted Mayor Miller off of the grate and carried her out of the Tower. It was a precarious journey in some parts because they had to watch their footing in the destroyed places and the layer of blood/entrails that coated the majority of the floor didn't help matters, either. It took twice as long for them to make it out as it had taken for them to find her, but the important thing was that she was alive.

Danny and Hancock were both relieved to see that their friends had returned, not only intact, but also touting the unconscious woman. "Now, all that's left is to find Hancock some irradiated water." Their satisfied demeanor changed immediately. It was getting dark and unknown dangers could lurk around any corner.

Bet was not unafraid, but it was time to do what was necessary. She flipped on her flashlight. The blue glow lit up a small area around them."Wish me luck." She saluted them before darting off into the darkness. They watched her light until she rounded a corner down the street.

Danny pulled out an old cigarette pack and opened it to reveal that it actually contained a deck of worn playing cards. "Poker, anyone?"

It was well past midnight when she returned. She didn't say anything right away, but instead turned her head to the side and vomited. Her skin was so pale that she was clearly visible even in the dark without the flashlight. She had filled her old military canteen to the brim with irradiated water. "Twenty rads per second." She managed to say before coughing and dry heaving again onto the ground. "Radaway…please…"

Danny instantly grabbed the waiting bag of Radaway, opened a can of purified water, and handed them both to her. She took intermittent sips of the water and the medicine until they were both completely gone. She wished she could have more water to wash the bitter taste out of her mouth, but that would be a waste of their supplies. Instead, she settled for dishing out rations from her rucksack.

"Damn, feelin' better already." Hancock settled his head back against the cold stone of the wall behind him. He'd had some food, plus all those rads were already working their magic. "I think I'll be good to go with a few hours of rest." He stilled Bet's hands, which were scratching at the beginnings of the rash on her arms. "Wish ya hadn't had to do that." He told her ruefully as he brushed his fingers lightly over the raised bumps.

"I think we could all use some shut-eye." Danny agreed.

"I'll take watch duty." Travis offered. He borrowed Danny's cards and Bet left her light on, so he started up a game of Solitaire to pass the time. No one was extremely comfortable sleeping on the hard ground without even a blanket to keep out the frigid night air. However, they were lulled purely by exhaustion, so the night passed quickly and morning came without incident.

Bet woke up first, stiff and aching. She stretched and heard several bones crackle at the movement. The blood on her jeans had dried and, if one didn't know any better, you could say that it was just mud that coated her upper pant-leg and thigh. Travis glanced up at the sound of her movements and blinked owlishly at her with bleary eyes. She reached in front of him to turn off the flashlight. Danny rubbed a hand over his face and glanced over at Hancock.

The ghoul's eyes were still shut, but he was clearly awake now. His eyelids fluttered and coal-black pinned them all with an uncanny stare before his thin lips tilted upward into a troublemaker's grin. "Mornin'. Seems like we all survived the night." To their disbelief, he raised himself to his feet without any assistance, although he did appear to have a slight limp.

"Yeah, and it seems like we make an ideal team, too." Danny cracked a tired smile in return.

"I wouldn't be opposed to keeping this good thing going." Bet voted as she picked up her gear and her gun. "Just in case Nora ever wants a break or if she's indisposed at the time."

"This is an enormous opportunity." Danny mentioned casually. "People from Diamond City and Goodneighbor working together to save lives; it could potentially be the start of something pretty great."

There was no denying that fact. Now that McDonough was dead and Diamond City owed the life of its new mayor partially to the work of a ghoul, it opened up a whole world of possibilities. The march home was a chore, but the five of them made it to Diamond City by noon. "Guess this is where you get off." Hancock said as they got within sight of the Great Green Jewel. He clapped one hand on Travis' back and the other on Danny's. "You two should stop in Goodneighbor sometime."

Travis nodded vigorously. "How about sometime next month?"

"Sounds like a plan to me." Bet piped up and gave both of her new friends a tight hug. "Now, go home, take a hot bath, eat a butt-ton of food, drink a butt-ton of alcohol, and get a butt-ton of sleep."

"Any more butt-tons we should take care of?" Danny rolled his eyes.

"None that I want to know about." She said with a sly wink. They all groaned, but she laughed heartily at her own joke. "Go on, skedaddle." She made a shooing motion at them. They took off with Mayor Miller in tow. Once again, she and Hancock made the hike to Goodneighbor. "It's so nice to have friends." She sighed contentedly.

Hancock had returned to worrying about Nora's uncertain fate. "Nick should hear from Travis or Danny about what went down at the Tower. Here's hopin' he'll remember to send us word about Nora's condition."

"I'm sure he will." Bet reassured him. "It's just going to be a matter of time. If he hasn't sent someone by the time Sturges is fully healed, we can pay someone to go ask about it. Until then, we should hold off and let him have some time with her. He almost lost her, so I'd imagine he'd want to spend as much time with her as possible."

Sturges was healing well and was extremely eager to begin the journey to Diamond City to check on Nora. He would be ready soon and he had been a gracious guest while staying with Marie. She'd never had a more polite, and gentle-natured person grace her doorstep. In the days that followed her adventure, Bet and Sturges worked away at building the still and bottling machine. Sturges modified an ancient pre-War oven up to give her a way to make her own tarrberry sugar and dry out the corn, while she worked on setting up a growth media for her starter wort. The slant and homemade tarberry sugar that her grandfather had given her were practically godsends because it would have taken ages without them. She practically had a head-start on things in regards to that.

They had to wait a few days to assemble the bottling machine, the grinder and the still because the supplies they'd scavenged had been left outside Diamond City during the attack. Thusly, Nora had to arrange for a Minuteman to escort a provisioner to Goodneighbor in order to get it all to them. The shipment of corn and tarberries came soon after that. It was a whirl of activity that had them both working tirelessly. Finally, though, their labor came to fruition when Sturges added the finishing touch to the worm box by welding the water pipe to it that was fed by a re-designed water cooler. Sturges, with his mechanical brilliance, managed to make it work by using cryo cells to cool the water.

The bottling machine was finished by the next week, though, Bet had no real hand in that because she honestly had no clue where to start with machinery. So, she'd just been careful to stay out of Sturges's way and hand him whatever tools he requested. "Now, all you gotta do is load up a crate full of bottles on to the conveyor belt and push the button. If the machine is out of caps; open up this cylinder and carefully load in 100 caps at a time. It can only hold 300 caps at one time, though, so be careful to not overload it or it might become blocked."

"Thanks, Sturges." She hugged the giant man tightly to show her gratitude. He'd been living with her for two weeks now and they'd become fast friends. "I'm going out to grab a few groceries. Take a break while I'm gone, you've been working yourself pretty hard."

He smiled warmly at her. "Hey, did you know that kid made a broadcast about your super mutant adventure today?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the radio. "I heard it this morning before you got up." He chuckled and his whole chest resonated with the deep sound. "I'd advise you to stay out of sight if you can. He laid it on pretty thick… _Bootlegger_."

"What?" She looked up at him with confusion written all over her face, but he just laughed and waved her out the door.

It didn't take her long to figure out what he'd meant by that; Goodneighbor was abuzz with gossip concerning Hancock's adventure with her. Bet was accosted several times by citizens who wanted to ascertain the present condition of their mayor. Once she had relieved them of their worries, they would often return to their normal activities. However, someone else would, sooner or later, bring it up again and make her recount the tale. Apparently, it was because Travis had made such a chilling impression upon his Goodneighbor listeners that many of them thought their beloved mayor was as good as dead despite the fact that many of them had seen him limping around the State House in the past few days.

Hancock, of course, was not helping quell the tide of rumors. In fact, he hadn't left the State House since their arrival weeks prior. She learned that tidbit of information from Daisy on her way back to her place. When she finally made it back to her home, she hurriedly slammed the door shut behind her. Sturges called out to her."You're back! How did the shopping go?" It seemed he'd taken her advice and was lounging on her couch in her office upstairs with the latest issue of Publick Occurrences. She gritted her teeth, forced herself to refrain from stomping up the stairs, and peered into her office. "Wait, don't tell me. I can tell from your face that you're annoyed."

Bet huffed as she sat down on the couch opposite him. "I just wish that every Tom, Dick, and Harry would stop making me tell the story over and over again. Once was fine, twice was alright, three times was dull, but the sixteenth was ridiculous! I just wanted to get some food and supplies, but no!" She got up from the couch. "It took me ages to buy a basket of mutfruit, razorgrain, and a few cobs of corn because everyone kept stopping me on my way to Daisy's and on the way back here. It's a miracle I made it home before dark."

He checked his watch. "Yep, you made it home with three hours to spare."

Her green eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. "It's six?! Shit, I was supposed to meet up with Hancock at five!" She rushed out of the room and back out the door. Sturges shrugged and straightened his paper out before returning to reading.

Hancock was patiently waiting in his lounge. Fahrenheit stood near the door cleaning her fingernails with her switchblade and generally being intimidating. Frantic footsteps running up the stairs broke the silent calm. "That would be Bet." There was a sudden and loud yelp of pain, and then a series of thuds and shouts. "That would be Bet falling while going up the stairs." The footsteps on the stairs came again after a short break, then a single bump followed by a crash and the sound of several sympathetic voices. "That would be Bet tripping over the table on the landing." Fahrenheit opened the door just as the footsteps reached the doorway. "Have you noticed that she tends to get kind of clumsy when it comes to the stairs in here?"

"Yeah, but I put it down to exuberance." Hancock watched as Bet stumbled inside. "How's my favorite hot mess? Heard you got caught up in storytellin'."

She plopped herself down on the couch beside him, careful to avoid knocking the mountain of Jet off of the arm, and groaned. "I went outside. That was my mistake. I should have taken a leaf out of your book and hid away until the hype died down." She crossed her arms and huffed in annoyance. "I should have just listened to Sturges. He _warned_ me about the broadcast before I left, but I brushed it off. I didn't think people would make a big deal out of it."

"Eh, it's the price you pay for being a public figure." He took a hit from the inhaler, held his breath, and let out a misty puff of chem fumes. She questioned him about what he meant by that. "Our names are rollin' off of people's tongues all over the 'Wealth by now. There's hardly a person around that doesn't listen to Diamond City Radio, you know that as well as I do. After Travis decided to spill the beans this morning on our little rescue, I'll bet none of us will be able to enjoy anonymity any longer."

She scoffed. "You've probably spent half your life without the luxury of being a nobody."

"Be that as it may, it seems you've got your own nickname thanks to our mutual friend. He's taken to callin' you Bootlegger for some reason." The ghoul closed his eyes to better enjoy his trip.

She put her head in her hands. "Kill me, please. Strike me down where I sit!" She bemoaned as she recalled her conversation with Travis.

Hancock patted her back. "Hey, think of this as a convoluted advertising strategy." He smirked. "Now you've got a name for your brand." He made an arching gesture with his hands. "Bootlegger. How'd he even come up with that?"

She drew in a calming breath through her nose. "No, you're right. I've gotta make the most of this. Even if I hate the nickname, I've gotta think of the caps."

He turned the volume up on his radio that was placed on his coffee table. "Have ya listened to the broadcast, yet? It's one of Travis' best so far." She shook her head and told him that she didn't really want to. She'd always been the type to be easily embarrassed by excessive amounts of attention and the knowledge that possibly hundreds of people had heard the story made her queasy.

"Suit yourself, although my only complaint was his intense description of my part in the whole mission. Harrowing? Sure. Dangerous? Of course. But heroic leader bent on rescuing a damsel in distress? Not so much. Hell, I've gotta give him credit where it's due, though. The kid's learned how to tell a damned good story, even if he laid it on a bit thick in certain parts."

Fahre chuckled quietly in the background. "The best tales are the tall ones, as they say."

Bet eyed the radio with contempt. "The important question to ask is; will this be the first step in a better direction?"

Fahrenheit seemed to seriously consider that question. "I haven't heard a negative reception of the story at all, so far. I'd say our odds of making a good impression are pretty high."

Bet nodded. "That's great. If we can pitch change to the general populace, there may be enough people who'd be willing take up our banner." A knock interrupted the conversation and the three of them all looked at the open doorway, where a member of the Neighborhood Watch stood. He was clutching a slip of paper in his hand. "A message from Nick Valentine to you, Mayor Hancock, it came from a Minuteman provisioner."

"Thanks, James." Hancock took the paper and sat back down. His eyes followed the neat script on the note. He turned it over. "Says that Nora's gonna be okay and that Mayor Miller has promised to make a speech about her rescue tonight." Bet held up crossed fingers for luck and he pumped his fist. "Hell, yeah! Best news of the day. Sturges should be passin' by Diamond City on his way back to Sanctuary. He'll probably drop in for a couple of minutes to check on 'er for us."

With Nora on the mend, and her own anticipation for the coming speech, Bet's spirits were raised just as quickly. Doubts lingered at the back of her mind, but she shoved them aside in favor of savoring the moment. She returned home in the dark after enjoying the company of Fahrenheit and Hancock for several hours. While the head of the Neighborhood Watch was not exactly a talkative person, Fahrenheit was slightly more loose-lipped after her third drink. Bet, clumsier than usual from the excess of alcohol, wobbled home around midnight to find Sturges in her kitchen cooking up a delicious smelling steak of unknown origin. "Never knew you were a tinker _and_ a chef." She noted with a smile as they sat down to a hearty meal.

"Well, I suppose I had to repay your hospitality somehow." He cut a bite-sized piece of meat from his steak. "Cooking seemed the best way to do it."

She swallowed a mouthful of Instamash. "You're a great friend, Sturges. You wouldn't have needed to repay me at all. I am just so happy that both you and Nora are still with us."

He rolled his enormous shoulders back in a half-stretch. "I feel the same about you, Hancock, and those other two guys from Diamond City." He finished his food in a few more bites and took up both of their plates. "I'm headed over first thing tomorrow to check on my fellow Atom Cat." He washed up and went back to his borrowed bed.

She was alone with her thoughts for the first time in weeks. She hadn't had any real time to herself since before she'd gone off scavenging around Goodneighbor to decorate her warehouse. After that trip, it was like everything just kind of snowballed and she hadn't had any time to think –only to react. She leaned back in her chair and tried to make sense of the events that had led up to her (completely unwanted) fame. Out of the entirety of these last three weeks, she'd only come to regret two things; the incident in Vault 81 and unknowingly encouraging Travis to exaggerate her role in Mayor Miller's rescue. While there wasn't much she could have done about Travis's broadcast, she definitely believed she could have done more to prevent Hancock from going postal on Bobby.

True, she'd forgiven Hancock for his brash actions, but she had yet to ponder the reasoning behind said actions. Why had he done that? Sure, any friend would have sympathized with her and tried to protect her, but he went completely wild. The sound of Hancock snapping Bobby's wrist echoed in her ears and her stomach rolled. There was another side to Hancock, she realized, that relished violent justice to any and all who deserved it. She didn't mind it when he unleashed his wrath on raiders and others of that ilk, but it was a different ballgame when it came to someone she'd actually _known_. If she were completely honest, however, there was a part of her that absolutely loathed Bobby and had enjoyed Hancock's retaliation. She'd been disgusted by herself; what kind of person thought things like that? It was part of the reason she'd been so upset with him in the first place. Hancock had made her feel things that made her sincerely question who she was as a person.

Bet, despite the fact that she had been bending under the weight of deep-seated exhaustion only minutes earlier, found that she kept coming back to Hancock's overreaction back in the vault. What _had_ he been thinking? She settled her head into her hands and stared at the stone wall with her mouth turned down into a troubled frown. Her thoughts would not allow her to settle down or even relax; she felt on edge and it was like she could sense something was building up inside her. She jumped up and ran after Sturges. "H-hey, do you mind if I tag along with you? I…uh…I need some time away from people right now." Her words spilled out of her mouth before she had a chance to really think about what she was saying and it all came out like a jumbled mess. "It's just with the broadcast thing a-and I don't like the attention…it makes me feel weird. It's like I've got…I dunno…" She sighed heavily and tried to start over. "Can I please go with you, so that I can take a break from all this commotion caused by Travis's broadcast?"

He folded his arms behind his head and reclined on his make-shift bed. "Sure, long as you don't mind makin' a pit stop down near Quincy for a few days. I have a few friends I wanna visit after we check on Nora."

She sat down heavily on her bed. "I'm not sure if I understand your meaning. Do you mean a vacation?"

He'd grabbed a couple of cushions from one of the couches on his way up and borrowed a blanket from her dresser by the door. He stretched out on his temporary bed like a cat. "Something like that. I'm feeling like going back to my roots and go runnin' with my old gang again. You could tag along, if you're feelin' up to it. It's an offer; not an obligation."

"Depends." She was hesitant to make a decision until she knew more. "What's this 'old gang' of yours like?" As an afterthought, she added another stipulation. "And, how long will it take to get there?"

He thought for a minute on how to describe Zeke and the other Atom Cats. The words 'hard to explain' coupled with 'you need to see it to believe it' came to mind, but he settled on a single descriptor. "Charismatic." They certainly were exactly that and more. "It's pretty far down south near the edge of the Commonwealth, so it'll be a three-day trip to get there. I'm not lookin' to spend more than a week there, so you'd be back here in two weeks." He judged by the unenthusiastic sound she made that she wasn't too keen on the idea. "Like I said, it's up to you, but I want to head out tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

She was silent and he thought for sure that she'd change her mind. "Sure, besides it might be fun." He settled down with a mile-wide smile on his face. She'd be a great Atom Cat; Zeke had a way of turning troubled people around. The Atom Cats had an effect on people he'd witnessed firsthand. If nothing else, she'd be happy again. He hadn't seen her actually happy since the incident with the muties and he felt like he owed her a bit for taking diligent care of him while he was laid up.

The hike to the Atom Cats' garage was one of the toughest she'd experienced so far. A well-aimed bullet from a raider damn near splattered her brains all over a wall. Luckily, Sturges picked the asshole off like a flea with his trusted .50 cal. Avoiding raiders altogether on a trip like this was an impossible feat, although they skirted around raider camps when they could, sometimes it was necessary to sneak past them to get where they needed to go. For instance, they had to cross a bridge their second day in and three ruffians dressed in combat armor demanded a 'toll' of five hundred caps.

"Just when I thought I'd finally escaped assholes." Bet remarked under her breath. "Do we look like we can afford that?"

The raider looked them over; Bet in her crumpled fedora, ratty jeans, and tattered t-shirt made for a rough sight and Sturges, who was covered head to toe in a thick layer of Commonwealth dirt and decked out in utility overalls, didn't look any fancier. "Even if we could, do you really think we'd carry that amount on us?" Sturges crossed his burly arms and widened his stance, ready for a challenge.

"Fine," The raider flipped up the cage-mask on his football helmet. "Two hundred caps."

"Dude! Are you serious?" She exclaimed with a loud groan. Inwardly, she smirked at the idiot raider. Between them, they had over a grand in caps, but there was no way this knucklehead would see a single one. She'd rather go out fighting before she willingly supported a lazy, bone-brained murderer. "We can barely rub two caps together. C'mon and give us a reasonable deal."

"Seventy-five caps and that's my final offer." He growled. He was growing impatient and frustrated, as were the two goons behind him.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" Bet shook her head.

"Fifty caps, then." He stared them down. "I know you can do fifty."

"Maybe, if we sold everything we own." She replied.

The raider groaned out of annoyance and frustration. "You know what? Just go. I'm getting tired of looking at your ugly faces." He stood aside and let them pass.

Once they were out of earshot, the duo high-fived and shared a laugh over the encounter. "I wish we could have just taken them out, so they don't have to bother anyone else." Bet said. "We're just not equipped for a straight-up fracas." It was true. Sturges wore a chest-plate, a pair of metal bracers, and shin-guards beneath his outfit, but she wore only a bit of leather armor under her own clothes. The only weapon she had on her was her beloved .10mm and Sturges simply had a rifle slung over his shoulder.

On the evening of the third day, just as the sun was setting the coast aflame with golden hues of peachy fire, they reached the outskirts of Quincy. Sturges ceased his cheery whistling and fell dead silent. Only the creaks of the ruined highway could be heard, and his expression hardened with every step closer. He crouched down behind a cracked stone wall. She settled into a sneak position, too, and wondered if he'd spotted something.

Nothing moved, but he continued to give the main street a wide berth. Gunners, she knew, had taken up residence in the ruins of Quincy, but she wasn't aware of many details. Ahead of her, the mechanic edged along the shoreline until they were safely past the danger zone. Of course, since he had friends here, she assumed he was familiar with the area. She followed his lead without questioning his cautious manner. She quickly forgot his overtly careful behavior as they entered into view of the garage.

Husks of old vehicles were stacked up by the rusted-out chain-link fence that surrounded the two-centuries-old Red Rocket garage. The fence was shored up in some places with metal and boards, but the gate was mostly intact. Sturges pushed open the gate and stepped into the yard. It'd been ages since he'd last set foot in those gates, but it felt like finally coming home again. He was happy to see nothing had changed. Rust and grease scented the air just as he'd recalled, and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore brought him back in time to careless days.

A sound like a roll of thunder in the avatar of footsteps pounded around the side of the building and Bet jumped back a few feet at the emergence of a man clad in power armor. "Duke!" Sturges called out.

"Sturges!" Duke's voice was muffled by his helmet. Another dude in power armor clomped in behind the first guy. "Johnny D., can you believe this knucklehead took so long to come back?"

The second guy removed his helmet and shook out his D.A. haircut. "Zeke's gonna flip his rag top over this. Zeke! You're never gonna believe this."

A small group came barging out into the drizzling rain from a warehouse beside the station. All of them wore a similar get-up of leather jackets and jeans. They were greasers; Bet recognized the style from her pre-War books and the covers of Hot Rodder magazines. The power armor made more sense to her now. "Whoa, who's the doll?" Duke asked of Sturges.

"My name's Bet." She peered around Sturges to look up at him. It felt a bit wrong to have anyone besides Hancock call her 'doll'.

Duke, in his power armor, was a foot and half taller than her. "Well, doll, I'm Duke. This cat's Johnny D., that Jack over there is Zeke and beside him is Bluejay. Roxy is the fox beside Bluejay, and the shy babe at the back is Rowdy. Welcome to the Atom Cats' Garage."

She gave him a small smile because she was feeling a bit overwhelmed. "Thanks, it…uh…it's impressive." It wasn't tidy in the least, but she firmly believed that how other people chose to keep their homes was their own business. It also wasn't a lie because the place truly was impressive. It was a massive area filled with tools, engine parts, and other bits and bobs. Power armor pieces littered the garage portion of the Red Rocket and a whole frame was parked in a corner.

Sturges went over to examine the frame. "We retired your power armor frame when you hit the road." Zeke piped up. "Rowdy has the rest of the pieces in storage."

"I guess I'll just have to put it back together again." Sturges opened up a metal cabinet to search out the armor pieces.

Roxy stopped Bet a few feet away from the power armor stations. "Sturges, is this doll with it?" She eyed her up and down with doubt in her eyes. "She looks like a cube to me."

Bet struggled to remember some slang that had been referenced in the magazines. "Cool it, I'm hip to the jive, kitty-cat. Can you dig what I'm layin' down?" She was pretty sure she'd read that somewhere and it seemed to ease a bit of Roxy's suspicion. The words felt foreign in her mouth, but it seemed like she'd have to pick up the lingo if she planned to stay for the week.

"If you're hip, then where are your plates?" She questioned her in a doubtful tone of voice.

Thank goodness KL-E-0 had let her work with the power armor back in Goodneighbor, otherwise she'd have no idea what to say. "I'm..er…saving up. Plates cost a car-load of caps."

Zeke patted Roxy on the back. "No need to give this doll the third degree, I've got a good feeling about her." He leaned casually against the garage. "So, what's your tale, nightingale? You here lookin' for a ticket to Fat City?"

"Oh,…you know…I was stuck in Nowheresville for a stretch and I needed some cool cats for company. Too many..uh…too many squares in Nowheresville." She really hoped that what she'd said made some sense to him because she wasn't too sure even she understood the words dropping from her lips.

"I dig it, so like Duke said 'welcome to the garage' an' all that jazz." He hooked his arm under hers. "Let's give Sturges' doll the grand tour, Cats!" He led her around the junkers and into the warehouse. Inside, a jukebox was pumping out tunes from classic rock 'n roll kings like Elvis, Bowie, and Jerry Lee Lewis. Lewis waged a war on a piano in the background as Zeke led her around the first floor. "A classy doll like you probably doesn't play pool, but here at the garage it's just about the only game we bother with besides races." Classy? She looked like she'd been dipped into a mud puddle, dried out and lit on fire, but it was probably just a nicety on his part. "That's it!" He swung around to face the other Atom Cats. "We'll have a power armor race to welcome our favorite cat back into the fold! His doll will set the rules and the prize." He looked at Bet expectantly.

"I'm..n-not..exactly his doll…, but if you really want me to set some stipulations and gift a consolation to the winner I'll do it." She hated being the center of attention and just wanted to blend into the wall, but now everyone was staring at her. She gnawed at her oft-abused lip. "Maybe we should finish the tour, first?"

He grinned widely. "Sure, it'll give ya time to think." He leaned in so that the others couldn't hear. "Would you mind if I made a suggestion? Set the race underwater. I've wanted to do that for ages. Add any other type of handicap you want." Thanking her lucky stars that he'd done half the work for her, Bet allowed the Cats finish out the tour. They showed her a place to fix up her armor and weapons if she needed to do that while she was there, and the upstairs portion of the warehouse where she would stay with the other two girls. Zeke had his own trailer, which he pointed out just in case she needed to speak with him.

At the end of the tour, she'd had enough time to think up her own embellishments to Zeke's proposal. "You'll do the race underwater tonight. You can't use the headlamps on your helmets and you'll each be carrying an engine." Power armor came with a built-in aqualung, so they should be fine for at least an hour. They lined up behind the finish line and prepared to take off. Sturges had bolted his plates back onto his old power armor frame, shoved a spare F.C into the slot, and stepped into it. The paint job on his armor was different from the flame job the others favored; it featured the maw of a shark on the torso. Each of the guys picked up an engine. She took a Nuka-Cola Quantum from her pack and fifty caps for the prize. "Looks good to me, but I think we should go for pinks and spring for a kiss from each of the pretty little dolls in attendance to sweeten the deal." Zeke added when he saw what she intended for the prize.

Bluejay rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, for the love of-…We all know your game, Zeke. Everyone knows you just want a kiss from Rowdy." He grinned at the tinge of pink his words had brought to his leader's cheeks.

Bet raised her pistol into the air. "If you boys are done gabbing, we have a race to start." Roxy smirked back at them. She nodded at Bet to signal it was time. She squeezed the trigger and let off a shot into the sky. At the crack of the shot, the men were off. Zeke had a lead straight up until they started treading serious water and that was when Johnny D passed him. It was neck and neck for third place; Sturges and Bluejay were hauling ass side by side. Duke was in last place and breathing hard long before he was even neck deep in the water.

"Duke's mostly muscle, but he's never been a runner. I think he's won maybe one race so far." Rowdy said. "He's handy in a fight, though, and super sweet."

Roxy elbowed Rowdy in her side. "Keep running your mouth like that and Zeke might think he has competition. As for you-"She faced Bet. "New girl, don't go thinkin' you're part of the gang just 'cause Zeke approves of you. You gotta earn your spot here. Personally, I don't think you're Atom Cat material. We don't let any Clyde in off the street, but I'll be fair and give you some work. If you impress me, I might have a reward on hand to give you."

"Alright, what did you have in mind?" Bet hoped like hell it was something she could actually do, because it would be nice to have more people she could call friends. They seemed like the right type of people to fall in with, so she was eager to impress them.

"First, get in that garage and show us you actually know how to handle some plates. My power armor was damaged in a fight with some knucklehead Gunners. If you can fix it, I have another job for ya in the works." Roxy ordered. The two Atom Cat chicks started walking her back in the direction of the open garage. "We'll be countin' laps for the boys out here. You should be done by the time the race ends."

Bet swallowed her own self-doubt and determinedly set to work. KL-E-0's help with understanding power armor would hopefully get her through this. Roxy's power armor had been completely dismantled and the first thing she had to do was examine the bare frame. A bullet was lodged in one of the joints, which was easily removed by prying it out with a screwdriver. Next thing she did was make sure all of the joints were lubricated and that the fusion core hadn't been dinged up in the fight. She opened up the suit and got in to check that everything was moving as it should and, once she was satisfied, she hopped back out. She examined the actual plate armor pieces and discovered that the left leg was terribly dented, but it could easily be hammered out. She steadied the leg piece by using a C-clamp to hold it to the workbench. A nearby claw-hammer would work just fine to do the job, so she grabbed it and set to work.

The right leg was not much better off than the left had been; the soldered area that connected one of the hinges had been broken. Endless hours poured over Guns and Bullets mags (as well as her time spent working for KL-E-0) had taught her that power armor fits together like a puzzle piece, and if even one of those pieces is bent or broken it could mess everything up. Power armor plates were partially held in place by popping them on ( bits of more flexible metal on the frame were designed to bend inward to allow the tight plates to snap into place and then pop back into place behind a ridge on the plates to secure them) and secondarily held by aluminum or steel buckles. T-60 buckles were a bit weaker than X-01 buckles because they were made of aluminum and not thin steel. It made them easier and quicker to secure, but also more susceptible to damage if someone knew where to aim. She had to solder the hinge back on, and, as a precautionary measure, checked the buckles on both legs.

The arms weren't so easily fixed. Rowdy had modified them to deliver more powerful unarmed attacks and it took Bet a solid twenty minutes to figure how the hell to fix the shock-absorbing mechanism in the left hand. The spring had been bent somehow, so she'd had to replace it with a spare she'd found atop a cabinet. She wasn't so great when it came to mods because she hadn't had much experience modding out the power armor she'd worked with. Thankfully, common sense and a bit of troubleshooting went a long way. The torso was also modified administer stimpacks automatically from a built-in supply. Stimpacks were loaded into the spring-lock mechanism and a nearby patch of tinier needles led to a miniature monitor in the helmet that kept track of vital signs. Bet grimaced when she saw all of those needles. How could Roxy stand to move around with all of those things sticking her like a pincushion? Sure, it was useful, but it definitely couldn't be comfortable.

Roxy's helmet was the easiest fix of all. All that she needed to do was replace the headlamp. She had just finished gluing the new headlamp in place when she heard the boys outside cheering. She peeked out the door in time to see Johnny D. bounding across the finish line. Duke emerged from the water not a minute later and claimed second place. Zeke was third and Sturges was fourth, but Bluejay was nowhere to be found.

They waited for a while, but Rowdy was feeling anxious. Bluejay should have surfaced in the fifteen minutes that had passed, but there was still no sign of him. "What if he's in trouble?" Roxy wrung her hands worriedly and kept searching the water's surface for evidence of him.

Zeke kept a cool head, but it was obvious he was just as concerned. "Sturges, Johnny D." He pointed to the south to indicate they should search that area. The two nodded solemnly and took off. Zeke walked off in the opposite direction with Duke to begin their half of the search.

Roxy ran up to Bet. "I hope you did a decent job because I'm going down there to help, too." She declared. She didn't even bother to check the suit, but climbed right into her armor and set off into the ocean.

Rowdy assigned herself to be on watch just in case Bluejay somehow came back on his own. Bet was left alone in the garage and forgotten in the chaos. Bluejay had seemed like a nice guy, so she really hoped he was okay. She heard Rowdy pacing around outside and, for a time that was the only sound; until gunshots whistled through the air. Rowdy let out a pained gasp outside.

"Rowdy!" She ran outside to find the greaser girl clutching at her arm, which was bleeding badly. Another handful of shots whizzed by and hit the water. She glanced around in a panic to try to find the whereabouts of the shooter. A bullet bounced off of the chain-link fence with a sound so piercing it made her flinch back. She grabbed ahold of Rowdy's jacket and hauled her back inside the garage; taking care to grab her pack as she ran. A ballistic shower followed close at their heels until they were safe behind the walls of the station.

"Gunners." Rowdy growled as she clutched at her arm in an effort to halt the bleeding. Splatters of her blood hit the concrete where she stood, and Bet started to worry that the bullet had hit something important. "They're always tryin' to get their dirty mitts on our suits. We're gonna have to hold them off until the boys get back."

Bet quickly loaded up a handful of bullets into her pistol's magazine and slid it back in place. "You stay here. I'll do what I can to hold them off." Rowdy attempted to protest, but Bet shut her up with a serious glare. "You're wounded. I can't let you go back out there." Rowdy was growing unsteady on her feet from blood loss and leaned heavily on a cabinet stocked with components. She knew she couldn't go out the way they'd come in, so she snuck out the door of the garage into the station and out of the back door. She took cover behind the shells of cars stacked against the fence.

A gunner was making an attempt to clamber over the gate. She took aim, fired and missed her first shot. He fell off the gate, but jumped back to his feet. She fired again and caught him square on the shoulder. The hit staggered him and gave her time to finish him off with three more shots. She ducked back behind the makeshift shelter to take cover while she reloaded. Gunners could be heard shouting orders to one another in the distance. Metallic pings and sparks flew as they tried to get a shot at her, but her cover held strong. A break in the fire made her chance a peek around the hood of the car and she spotted another gunner that had made the first few steps into the yard. He'd be close enough to take Rowdy out if she let him go any farther, so she took the chance. The bullet hit him in the stomach, but he was wearing combat armor and it didn't faze him at all. He kept getting closer and raised his pistol in the air.

She shot wildly at his raised arm. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she let Rowdy die. Luck favored her and a shot grazed his wrist, which caused him to howl in pain. His distraction gave her an opening she could take adequate advantage of, and she let off several rounds into him before he finally dropped. Dead or merely close to it, she didn't care to check and she ignored him to seek out another gunner.

Peepers the Eyebot dropped to the ground as a bullet found its way through the poor robot's circuitry. Damn, she'd liked that cute little 'bot. "Found you, bitch!" She jumped away from the fence to see that the third gunner had snuck up to the top of the car stack she was hiding behind. This was it. She gritted her teeth and waited for his bullet to blow her brains all over the ground.

"Hey!" She heard a familiar voice shout from the shore. A shot caught the gunner in the back and he toppled forward. He landed right at her feet. When she looked up, she saw Zeke grinning at her from over the fence. They'd returned in full force to drive back the mercenaries.

An unwise merc tried going at Duke with a switchblade, but he simply caught the guy's hand and crushed it in his own. A bullet to the head, and the merc was finished. The rest of the gunners were gradually picked off or ran off, she didn't really see which option it was. She urged Zeke to return to the garage because of Rowdy's situation. He wasted no time in getting there and when they arrived to find Rowdy, pale and sweating on the ground, she swore the guy almost started bawling. "Rowdy…hey…it's gonna be alright." He eased her into his arms and held her tightly like he was afraid she was fading away right before his eyes. They'd have to remove the bullet before they could give her a stimpack, but he wouldn't let anyone get any closer to her.

"Zeke, we need to get the bullet out." Sturges said softly.

"I...I should never have left her." Zeke's shoulders shook a little as he struggled to keep his composure. "Baby, I swear I'll never…I'll never-"

"Zeke, stop it." She pushed him away weakly. "Duke, grab the medkit. Someone get this sappy knucklehead a drink. I'm not dyin' on ya today." Sturges pulled Zeke away, while Duke did as she'd asked.

Bet retrieved a few beers from the icebox and handed them over. Zeke popped the cap off one, but only rolled it sadly between his hands. These men were absolute sweethearts and it broke her heart to see him so cut up about leaving Rowdy alone. She patted his armor-plated shoulder. "Don't blame yourself, Zeke. You didn't know."

"Yeah, besides if anyone's to blame it'd be me." Roxy owned up to leaving with the last suit of power armor. "If I hadn't run off, she would've had a bit more protection."

"Roxy, no…" Bluejay slipped an arm around her. "It's no one's fault. The Gunners have never attacked at night before. We thought we were in the clear. Rowdy's going to be fine and she'll chew us all out if we play the blame game."

Rowdy was, indeed, fine. After Duke helped her fix herself up, she went immediately to bed. Zeke grabbed a chair from downstairs and decided to hold a vigil for her while she rested. Later on in the evening, Roxy approached Bet and took a seat opposite her in the station. "I owe you an apology."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Bet insisted whole-heartedly.

Roxy sighed. "In my defense, you don't come across very well." She gestured at her. "You're short, pale, and scrawny. You look like you're fresh from some cozy little place where people get three meals a day and enjoy functioning showers." The dark-skinned woman leaned on her hand. "Plus, you gave off this, like…aura of square…or something."

Bet arched an eyebrow at her. "Gee, thanks."

Roxy laughed. "Anyway, I'm happy I was wrong. It could have really gone sideways for Rowdy if you hadn't been there."

She picked at her nails to have an excuse to avoid looking the other woman in the eye. "I didn't do anything special. You make it sound like I took on twenty gangsters armed with tommy guns." Dirt was caked under her nails, which were chipped and worn down from her work earlier. "I'm sure Rowdy would've been fine if they hadn't caught her off-guard outside without any armor."

"That's the thing though; you kept her safe until we got back." She stood up and got something from under the counter. It was a leather jacket that matched the one she and the other Atom Cats wore. "The guys and I…well, we talked it over and we decided that you're Atom Cat material." She dropped the jacket into her hands. "Zeke told me to say thanks a lot for saving Rowdy. None of us will forget it."

She smiled widely and slid the jacket on over her tattered t-shirt. "I'd do it again. Speaking of what went down, did Bluejay explain why he was held up?"

Roxy returned her smile and rolled her eyes. "A glowing mirelurk decided to start an underwater wrestling match with him. He was fine, but for some reason those things creep him out."

"Well, they aren't exactly easy on the eyestalks." She joked. "But if you can get past the mandibles...they're still pretty ugly."

Roxy rolled her eyes. "Right, so I wanted to ask you where you learned to handle plates like a pro." She cocked her head questioningly at her, prompting Roxy to elaborate. "When I finally got the time to take a good look at your patch job, I was pretty impressed. So, you gonna spill?"

Bet told her all about her time in Goodneighbor and her previous job there working for KLE0. "KLE0 used to have a guy before me, but he..ah..well, he's not hanging around much these days. She needed a replacement and I needed a job at the time. I still do things from time to time for her when I'm not busy. The best part of running a still is I tend to have plenty of time on my hands."

"You know," Roxy tapped a finger against her chin. "We've been tryin' pretty hard to get people to come around to trade, but ever since the Gunners holed up in Quincy it's been sorta tough. If we gave people a good reason to make the trip…" She trailed off and grinned. "How about we start sellin' your stuff, too? You'd have to talk it over with Zeke first, but after the show you put on I think he'd be willin' to do it."

Bet frowned. "Why don't you guys just try to clear out the Gunners? I'm sure that with your power armor-"

Roxy glanced around nervously and lowered her voice. "Between you an' me, Zeke is still pretty cut up because of the last time we confronted the Gunners. It was around a year and a half ago, back when Sturges was still hangin' around, and the Gunners had only just launched their attack on Quincy. We were trading partners with the people there, plus Sturges had family there, so we decided to lend a hand." She rubbed her face roughly and cleared her throat. Sadness was etched into her expression. "We...lost a Cat in the fight and it messed Zeke up really bad. We Cats are family; i-it was like losing a brother."

"I'm sorry to hear that, now I can understand why you would be hesitant to take them on."

Roxy nodded and sighed heavily. She stared at her lap to help her think of something to fill the growing silence. "So, Sturges was talking about you." She sounded eager to change the subject.

She smiled into the mouth of her Nuka-Cola bottle. "Let me guess; was he complaining about babysitting me on our trip here?"

"No way!" Roxy grinned. "He told us you got yourself a piece on the radio. The boys wanted to hear it, so they're fixing Peepers right now. Peepers was the only way we could listen to Diamond City Radio. That station's reach is really shit."

They both heard footsteps approaching and stood to see Bluejay running out towards them. Bet's hand went for her gun. "More Gunners?" She asked quickly.

He shook his head. "We fixed Peepers, so the guys sent me to get you two so we can listen to the broadcast."

She kept her lack of enthusiasm for herself. There was no reason to be a spoilsport for the others just because she had a problem with it. She wondered why Sturges, who knew she hated it, would bring it up to them. She had no idea why everyone was making such a big deal out of it. After all, people had run-ins with super mutants all the time; why did this escapade make all the difference?

Travis's voice echoed loudly off the walls of the warehouse; they'd turned the volume up to hear it better. "Hope you liked that last number, folks. Now, here's a story I've been asked to re-tell…oh, I don't know how many times, but it never gets old." He definitely sounded a lot smoother over the radio than in person. "Nearly everyone who owns a functional radio has heard by now about Mayor Miller's run-in with super mutants. Almost as many have heard that a ghoul had a hand in her rescue, too. However, it wasn't just any ghoul; the mayor of Goodneighbor himself saved her bacon. While the infamous Hancock is, indeed, impressive, he didn't do it alone. No, folks. He rounded himself up a ragtag posse and, believe it or not, yours truly was a part of the action. You see, Hancock asked me and two others on what we all thought would be a suicide mission into greenie territory." Marie took a seat at the bar beside Zeke while Bluejay pulled up a chair across the room. Roxy leaned up against the wall and kept her eye on the robot. "Now, some may ask why he didn't take his ol' buddy the lady General along for the ride. After all, she's started and finished her own fair share of fights. Well, I'm sad to say she was badly hurt in the greenies' attack on Diamond City that started this chain of events and she is, as of now, in thankfully stable condition. At this time, I'd like to interject a comment on behalf of Nick Valentine because so many of you seem concerned about her well-being. He has asked me to request that any and all visitations be limited between twelve and five pm, as well as to ask whoever keeps sending in the gift baskets to kindly stop. Thank you for that, Mr. Valentine, and now back to the story."

"Is this Clyde ever gonna get to the good part?" Johnny D. griped.

"Chill out, a real storyteller has got to build the suspense." Zeke leaned forward eagerly. "Besides, the kid finally had an experience that put some hair on his chest, so lighten up a little."

"Most of us in Diamond City know Danny Sullivan, but for those of you that don't; he's only been a guard here for a short time now. However, I think most people would agree with me when I say that the Great Green Jewel should count itself lucky to have such a person. A person, who, without any thought to personal safety, immediately went after the mutants who kidnapped our mayor. So, now I've introduced all of those involved save for one. Who is that one? Why, none other than the fearless female I've taken to calling 'The Bootlegger'!"

"Bootlegger? What the hell kind of nickname is that?" Rowdy chuckled and they all stared at Bet, who was redder than a tato. Why did Sturges have to tell them? She pulled her fedora down over her face and said nothing.

"Until recently, she was nobody special; just like you and me. Bootlegger, a good friend of Hancock and the Lady General, operates out of Goodneighbor selling her _fine as wine_ moonshine. I've heard tell she'd give our Bobrov brothers a run for their money, but I'll leave that up to you. Though, I can say that her homemade liquid courage must be distilled from her very own character."

"Okay, that was a good line." Rowdy admitted.

Travis continued on recounting their story with great detail and expert inflection. When it was over, he laughed into the mic and said. "Now, let's play a song that reminds me of a certain firecracker in a fedora. Here's 'Atom Bomb Baby'."

She thanked the stars that it was finally over and sighed out of relief. "Aw, she's hiding. Babe, why didn't ya tell us you're famous?" Zeke teased.

"No, not 'babe'." Duke chuckled. "It's 'Bootlegger', remember?"

"Why, Sturges? Why?" She groaned and struggled to find some way to fit her whole body into her hat. Sadly, one poor fedora cannot hide an entire person and she made do by slumping down on the bar.

"Sorry, it just kind of slipped out when I was telling Zeke what I'd been up to." Sturges didn't sound very apologetic. In fact, he sounded more than a little amused.

"You're almost as bad as Hancock." She snapped back, though the harsh tone was muffled by her attempt to become one with the countertop. "He'll carve that damn nickname on my tombstone, I swear to everything that is holy." While the Atom Cats enjoyed their laugh at her expense, Bet hopped off the barstool and decided to take a walk. She would have preferred that Sturges hadn't embarrassed her like that, but she couldn't find it in her to be truly angry; only mildly annoyed and upset.

Rowdy watched her leave and elbowed Zeke hard. "Hey, I think we might've actually hurt the new girl's feelings."

Sturges admittedly felt a bit bad; he'd known full well how much that nickname and the broadcast bugged her. "I'll go get her." He jogged after her. He searched the scrapyard for her, but suddenly heard a shriek of terror and saw her pointing her gun at a cowering figure behind a coolant pump. A dog, mangy and limping, had approached her. It had an odd look, as if it were glaring at them both. It glanced up at Sturges and took a few steps back, and growled in warning. Bet scrambled back from it, clearly unnerved by the glowing ghoul mongrel, and stumbled backward onto the ground. "Did it hurt you?" He asked her, but she still kept her eyes locked on the dog. She didn't speak at all, in fact, she just kept her eyes locked on the dog. She shook her head wildly, but didn't lower her pistol. Sturges noticed that one of its front paws was bleeding.

"We heard a scream." Rowdy said as the others came running out to see what the matter was.

The dog growled and tried to back further away, but stumbled and had to put weight on its bad paw. It whimpered loudly and lay down. "It's hurt." Bet took a handful of hesitant steps toward the ghoul mutt.. "It looks like a gunshot from here. Those gunners must be shooting at strays for kicks." She didn't dare to get any closer; wounded and cornered animals were often the most dangerous kind of animals.

"We can't just kill the poor thing." Roxy said sympathetically. She picked up a long, narrow pipe and pulled a syringe of Med-X out of the medkit resting in the widow of the station. "We'll give it a shot to send it to sleep, clean its wounds, and give it a stimpack. After that, we'll see if it's too feral to tame or not; it'd be good to have a guard dog around."

Bet, despite her misgivings, stared at the poor thing's wounded paw and her heart gave a pang of sympathy. "Those Gunner bastards…" She shot a nasty look in the direction of Quincy. She held out her hand to the pooch. "It's okay, buddy. We got you…yeah…we're gonna help you, okay?" She inched closer, but took a step back each time the ghoul dog growled at her.

"Hey, I don't think that's such a good idea." Roxy warned her. "Let me get a sedative in him first…hey! Are you listening to me?!"

Bet really wasn't listening at all. She didn't have a suitable container for food, so she just grabbed a couple of old tin cans and set them in front of her. She took off back to the garage and returned with her pack in hand. She fished out a container of ground mole rat and a can of purified water; both of which she dumped into the cans. She stepped cautiously back from the food to watch what the dog would do.

The glowing mutt crawled forward slowly and kept a suspicious eye on them before it fell on the food as if it had never eaten before. The food was gone in seconds and the mongrel backed right off, but Bet urged him quietly to come back. She held her hand out, but just before the mutt went to sniff her fingers Roxy blew the syringe of Med-X through the pipe and hit it right on the side. The dog howled and tried to nip at Bet, who withdrew her hand just in time to keep her fingertips. It staggered and swayed for a while before it finally collapsed to the ground in a deep sleep

Roxy and Duke took the injured dog into the garage to take care of the poor thing. When they returned, Rowdy was slightly blood-splattered, but smiling as she held out her hand. Nestled there in her palm were several bullet fragments. "He had more bullet holes in her than we originally thought, but he made it through the surgery just fine. The Med-X and Calmex mix I used has knocked him out for the moment."

"That's….uh….good..I guess. Can…can I..see him?" She asked curiously. She'd never seen a dog that hadn't tried to rip her throat out. Plus, she had to admit that the dog would be an enormous asset if they could get it to trust them.

Sturges scratched the back of his neck. "Is that such a good idea?

She bit her lip. "I don't want to get really close. I just want to check on him." The animal was heavily tranquilized and probably unable to attack. She stood a few feet away from the open door and cautiously peered inside.

The stray was laid out on a work table and breathing evenly. Its ears barely twitched to acknowledge her presence. Its eyes opened to narrow slits. A hand on her back broke her focus on the dog; Sturges met her concerned gaze and took the next step with her. He guided her closer until they stood only an arm's length from the half-asleep canine. "You good?" He asked. She nodded because her tongue had stuck to the roof of her mouth. They stood there for a while watching the dog doze.

"How could someone do this?" Her voice was hoarse with emotion. Overwhelmed by her heartfelt sympathy for the poor animal, Bet could neither move nor speak. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides repeatedly. Her vision was becoming a bit blurry. "She doesn't look so hot." Duke's voice resounded like an echo in her head. Her face was cold and her lungs burned as she fought to take another breath. Suddenly, the world tilted and grew black.

"She fainted!" Sturges had managed to catch her before she hit the floor. He scooped her up and carried her outside. Duke pumped a bit of water onto a washcloth and wrung it out on to her face. She spluttered and came to almost immediately. She gasped and choked on nothing, except her own surprise.

"Next time, maybe we shouldn't let her get herself so worked up." Bet blinked the water out of her eyes. Rowdy, Duke and Sturges' faces swam in front of her eyes until she was able to properly focus. A lurch in her stomach forced her to turn to the side and retch. When she was able, she pulled herself to her feet and dragged her body to the water pump. She washed her mouth out and splashed more water on her face.

Over the next day or so, Bet forced herself to visit the glowing dog a handful of times. It slowly became easier to get closer until she didn't even feel the need to sedate it beforehand. She felt sorry for him, especially considering the mutt had turned out to be a gentle thing. Rowdy or one of the others most often accompanied her on these visits, but she finally mustered up the gumption to go alone. Her fingers had gone white from her grip on the can of dog food as she dumped it into a bowl and offered it up.

The dog eyed her warily, but accepted the food and gulped it down in a flash. It was able to put a little weight on its paw at this point and it dared to limp closer. "Easy boy…" Bet forced herself not to withdraw and show fear. Her hand felt like a lump of lead when she tentatively reached out in the dog's direction. "Come?"

The dog sniffed in her direction and huffed at her impatiently. Its boney tail twitched, and it opened its maw to yawn at her. She got the feeling it was waiting for her to do something. "Come?" She steeled herself for it to lunge, but the expected attack didn't occur. She opened one eye a crack and saw the dog stretching out on the floor. It circled a couple of times before settling down into a ball to snore. "Are you ignoring me?" She couldn't help being slightly offended. The dog blinked lazily at her and yawned again before tucking its tail over its snout.

The mutt had clearly ascertained her threat level to be non-existent and was now sleeping soundly only a couple of feet away. Bet slid down the wall of the garage and wrapped her arms around her knees. "If you're going to stay, you'll need a name." She looked around and spotted something on the ground that gave her an idea.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you serious? You're calling the dog Wingnut?" Sturges raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her choice of names.

Bet smiled sheepishly. "He…he…uh…looked like a 'Wingnut' to me."

Rowdy chuckled and scratched the lazy dog behind its ears. "I dunno. It's better than 'Fang' or 'Ripper' at any rate."

Sturges threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, looks like I'm outnumbered, but riddle me this; are the Gunners more likely to be scared when you call for 'Wingnut', or when you call for 'Ripper'?"

Rowdy choked on her beer in her efforts contain her laughter. "Damn, I can just imagine it. 'Sic 'em Wingnut'!" The dog snorted at her, which made her start giggling so hard that beer came out of her nose. She cursed, but she was still laughing herself silly.

Bet edged a bowl of food towards the hound. "Wingnut is very fearsome. They will learn to fear his wrath." She smiled to herself. "But, maybe you're right." She bit her lip as she thought hard to come up with a better name. "How does the name 'Gamble' sound?" Sturges and the others agreed that anything was a better name than 'Wingnut', and so the dog was gifted with a name. Sturges even etched a strip of leather with the dog's new name and made it into a collar.

During their final couple of days with the Atom Cats Roxy and Rowdy taught her a few useful mod tricks for power armor, which she was grateful to learn. Zeke was more than happy to consider selling her moonshine and to have her help with organizing the stock for a trade. Only a single provisioner visited the entire time she was there, so she could clearly see that they were in need of business. Zeke loved to teach her the 'language of cool' whenever possible, so he spoke to her in dialog heavy with greaser slang. The consistent exposure successfully ingrained his kookie speech into her mind, so that she found herself using it more casually.

Duke and Johnny D. were always patrolling, but made sure to take turns teaching her to defend herself better. Duke even showed her the proper way to use her combat knife. "Put your thumb up here, and curl your other fingers just like this." He positioned her pointer finger so that it was about half an inch further up the grip. "Keep your arm straight and jab out." He fixed her arm's position. "No, bring your arm down. Keep it close to your body to make your strikes smooth and quick. Don't give anyone the chance to grab your wrist or arm." She thrust the knife into the air a couple of times. "Yeah, that's great! You just need to keep your palm facing up on the strike and give it a twist at the end before you pull it back in." She did as she was told and he gave her a congratulatory slap on the back. "Awesome, now I'll show you how to counter it if someone else has the knife." He went on to teach her wrist-locks and further moves on unarmed versus armed combat. To her, it was wonderful to get a chance to learn almost everything she'd been denied access to while living in ignorance within the walls of Vault 81.

On the final night before they were set to leave, she grew despondent. Despite her love for Goodneighbor, she wished she could stay with her new friends. Her only consolation was Sturges' promise to return in the coming months. These visits weren't exactly to become commonplace, but he had enjoyed it as much as she had, if not more. Zeke, in an effort to raise some spirits, set up a race to send them off. Seven laps around the junkyard later, and Roxy tripped the finish line's flamethrowers only a second ahead of Zeke.

They celebrated by cracking open all the beers and grilling up some Radstag steaks. That evening, however, it was high time for the pair to leave. Everyone shook hands and gave hearty goodbyes, but Gamble didn't seem to understand that Bet needed to leave. He guarded the chain-link fence right by the entrance and whined loudly every time Bet or Sturges approached it. Bet bent down to pet the pooch along its back. "Hey, we'll be back." She told him in a soothing voice.

Yet, when they tried again to leave, the dog stepped in their way. Sturges chuckled and scratched it under its chin. "Seems like he wants to come with us." The dog barked playfully and wagged its tail. "I don't think it'd hurt if we took him along." Gamble danced in a circle and pawed at Sturges's boot.

Bet hoped that they weren't dragging the dog along to its death. "Okay, but I'd feel terrible if he gets shot again." Once the dog seemed to realize that it really was coming along for the ride, it ceased its attempts to stop them from leaving.

While nothing bad happened to the dog, their trip _was_ uncomfortable; a radstorm had blown in not even a quarter of the way to Diamond City. It was hard for Bet to start taking rads again so soon after getting moderate radiation poisoning for Hancock's sake. Sturges didn't know exactly why she was lagging so far behind him nor did he hear her stop to empty the contents of her stomach behind a destroyed vending machine. She'd known that her recent sickness wasn't going to make this trip easier for her, so she kept quiet. Fatigue gripped her tightly even as she forced down a dose of Radaway. Unwilling to give up its hold upon the Commonwealth, the radstorm raged for a greater majority of the hike. Green fog hung low to the ground, while darker clouds swirled like the coils of glowing snakes above their heads. Echoing clashes of lightning in the distance made the air stink of ozone.

She was weak. The muscles of her entire body were constantly tensing and relaxing in turns, while her jaw couldn't keep still. She was freezing. Anxiety twisted her insides into knots, while it felt like her lungs were too small to take in the proper amount of oxygen. These were symptoms of a problem she'd been told to watch out for, but she had no choice. She knew her reactions to chems were gradually intensifying, but there was nothing she could do about it. Her eyes flicked up to Sturges, he was now about twenty yards ahead, and she felt more hopeless than ever. How could she have ever presumed to survive at all? She was sickly and weak. She had no more hope of survival than a fish in a desert. She stumbled and nearly fell, but another voice yelled at her that she had to get back up. It sounded remarkably similar to Hancock or maybe she was just that delirious.

Sturges could sense now that something was very wrong. Bet was falling farther and farther behind. Gamble was beside her, pacing around her and whimpering. He stopped to wait for her and noticed that she was slightly staggering on her feet as if she'd had too much to drink. He yelled out her name, but she said nothing back. He ran up just in time to catch her as she tripped heavily over a chunk of asphalt. "What's wrong?" She'd been fine only a little while before.

She nearly bit off her own tongue trying to say something back. She tasted bile in her throat and her own mouth felt heavy on her face. Her tongue was thick and seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth, but he seemed to understand that he needed to get her out of the storm. She wouldn't ever be able to recall him dragging her into the safety of a dilapidated building.

Sturges had never dealt with anything like this before. She was awake, but confused and feverish. Whenever her eyes landed on him, he knew that she didn't really see him. He'd never witnessed her have a reaction like this before. The radstorm passed after a time, and that helped. She was still shaking like a leaf and gasping for air, but she was sensible again. "What the hell happened?" He asked her when she could finally speak without taking a bite out of her tongue.

"My…allergy. I've grown more sensitive to the chems." She chugged another can of purified water. "I-I should have seen it coming…I've been taking a lot more chems than I had to before."

He watched as she coughed and tried to clear her swollen throat. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." He clearly wasn't pleased. "Next time, don't push yourself so hard. We don't need another friend on her deathbed."

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I didn't think of it that way. I didn't want to slow us down on our way back." She felt guilty for worrying him and Gamble. Gamble pushed his head under her shaking hand and lay down beside her.

He slid down the wall without another word and pulled out a tiny circuit board to mess with. She watched him for a while. He took out the tiniest screwdriver she'd ever seen and a minuscule wrench from the zipper on the front of his utility overalls. She couldn't make heads or tails of what he was trying to do or why he was doing it, but it was calming to watch him work. He exuded an aura of peace that seeped into her. Her heart calmed its erratic pace eventually, but her skin still felt tight and there was an irritating itch in her palms. She scratched her hands and mentally bemoaned her situation. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. The itching grew more intense and the hives started to crop up. She coughed hard because of the tickle in her throat and broke his concentration, which made him notice the splotches now covering her skin. "Is your reaction getting worse?"

She sighed and rubbed her hands hard on her jeans. "No, no. It's just –ahem-" She cleared her throat hard as her voice was being affected by her reaction. "Excuse me, sorry. I'm just super itchy."

He tucked the circuit board away into the safety of his chest pocket along with the tools. "Don't ya think you're a bit delicate to be traveling around like you do? You know, considering your allergy and all."

She crossed her arms and ducked her head. "It's not exactly avoidable, you know. I have to do some things on my own. Plus, everything has a little radiation in it nowadays. I've gotten used to the rashes. It's something I'll just have to live with if I don't feel like dying of radiation poisoning or letting a bullet wound get infected." She brushed the splotches that dotted her arms. "Besides, these go away after a couple of hours. Pre-war Rad-X or Radaway give me a stronger reaction, but something about homebrewed anti-rad chems doesn't affect me as badly. I usually try to pack the homemade stuff, so I should be fine."

Concern was still etched into his face. "Is there something I could do?"

She smiled and shook her head. "That's sweet of you. Trust me, I just have to grin and bear it for a couple of hours." She extended her arm to show him. Half of her skin was normal and the other was covered in cap-sized, inflamed patches. He took her arm and looked it over to make sure that everything seemed okay. "What was the thing you were playing with?" She said to change the topic.

"It's a military-grade circuit board. Loads of stuff use 'em, but the one I have with me is somethin' special." He patted his chest pocket gently. "It'll be for a special type of missile turret I'm workin' on." He grinned widely. "A mini-nuke turret; I have to re-calibrate it to make it compatible with….." He laughed quietly at the lost expression on her face. "It's gotta be able to talk to the terminal I'm gonna hook up to it, and then we'll be able to scare the livin' shit out of anything from your common mole rat to a super mutant behemoth."

"Hopefully, a mini-nuke would do more than just scare a mole rat." She joked. She jumped up and grabbed her rucksack. "We still have to drop by Diamond City, so we should get going if we wanna make it back to Goodneighbor at a decent hour." She squinted against the brightness of the noon-day sun.

Sturges made sure to keep an ear out for the ticking of her Geiger counter from that point on. A person with a disconcerting lack of regard for her own health was clearly not someone who was fit for long journeys. He found himself wishing she'd stayed in Goodneighbor; pangs of worry hit him whenever he caught sight of the angry welts on her skin. His heart nearly stopped when she had a coughing fit that made him fear her throat was closing up. She caught her breath and closed her eyes for a moment. He touched her back to silently ask if she was alright. She quickly straightened and hid her weakness with a smile. Her wheezy pants haunted their steps for hours, but eventually her breathing seemed to even out and he was able to feel more at ease.

They made it to Diamond City's gate and Bet, just as she'd expected, was stopped by the guards. She scowled at him. "Look, lady." He leaned on his bat. "It's not my call. You're a troublemaker and we can't have troublemakers in Diamond City."

Her eyes narrowed with anger. "Oh, I suppose that means that innocent ghouls are troublemakers, too?"

The guard muttered something under his breath. "Enough with the bleedin' heart bullshit, you're not getting in and that's final. Now, you can either wait here peacefully while your friend does his business or we could put a bullet in your ass. It doesn't matter to me." He glared at Gamble, who was growling low in his throat. "An' keep that rotting mutt away from me."

Sturges stepped between the two just as she opened her mouth to further protest. "Hey, let's all just calm down here, alright? Chill out, man. She's not gonna cause any trouble." He hooked his arm around her shoulders and casually pulled her close. He didn't much like how easily the guard spoke of hurting her, but he didn't have a choice in leaving her outside with him. He met the other man's eyes with a hint of challenge. "We'll have no problems if she stays out here, will we?"

The guard, who stood a bit less than half a foot shorter than the mechanic, stepped back. "None at all." He grumbled.

Sturges' easy smile returned to its typical place. "Well, alright. See ya in a bit, troublemaker." He smirked and leaned down so that the guard couldn't hear what he had to say. "Try not to piss off the square, okay?" He patted her shoulder and ran inside.

Bet leaned against the wall and took out a packet of gumdrops to give her a spot of energy. Whenever her allergies acted up, she tended to feel quite tired afterward and in want of a nap. Instead, she'd have to make do with processed sugar. The guard kept a watchful eye on her for about fifteen minutes, but he eventually returned to his post when it became clear that she intended to do nothing except stand there and eat. She yawned widely and sat down on a conveniently placed crate. The loud puttering of the turrets faded away. Her blinks were growing longer, and soon she found herself nodding off. She jerked up and away from the crate; sitting down was obviously no longer an option. She couldn't allow herself to fall asleep for obvious reasons.

More than forty-five minutes later, Sturges jogged back out of the city and Bet perked up. "How does she look?"

He beamed brightly. "Not bad for a woman who was bombed and then shot, I'd say. She's still in rough shape, but she was well enough to chew me out for slogging out to Goodneighbor while I was hurt." His face fell a little. "Nick said that he went to the mayor's speech yesterday."

"And?" She prodded.

He winced as he anticipated her reaction. "The mayor basically said that what you four did was brave, but Diamond City can't risk its citizens by re-opening its doors to ghouls."

"WHAT?!" Her shout earned her the ire of the guard, who glared sternly at her. She glared back, but lowered her voice. "We risked our lives to save her ass and that's how she repays us? Please, tell me people aren't okay with that, even if she is the mayor."

"Several people ardently booed her at the speech, according to Nick, but the greater majority had applauded her decision. According to them, a normal ghoul could turn feral at any moment and pose a serious threat to everyone." He could tell the disappointment weighed heavily on her shoulders. Her plan to obtain justice for Jack and Marcy had failed rather spectacularly _and_ she'd earned a lifetime ban from Diamond City to boot. She closed her eyes and turned away from him. "I can't believe it." She sounded utterly dejected. "My plan should've worked, goddamn it!" She slammed her fist against the wall. She stared at the wall with a reviled expression. She started kicking and punching it wildly. "WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!"

The guard had gotten up from his chair, but Sturges hauled her away before he reached them. "It's wrong, I know." He held her arms still at her sides. "We'll find another way, but we need to go now."

"Let me go, right now!" She commanded furiously. "I'm going to march in there and give that bigoted bitch a piece of my mind!"

"If we don't get going, you're going to have more than one piece to give her." He tugged her away from the guards had gathered nearby. "Listen to me, please." He pleaded as he escorted her far from the encroaching guards. "We'll go back to Goodneighbor and wait for Nora to heal. She'll boycott Diamond City by diverting all of her Minutemen provisioners. If they're hungry enough, the people will agree to anything."

His backup plan seemed to calm her rage, though she refused to speak until her anger had totally ebbed, which was not until they'd nearly walked through the rickety door of her adopted home. They immediately went to Hancock to give him the news. He took it about as well as was to be expected. He growled and smashed a few empty beer bottles against the wall. "Damn, I knew they'd fuck us over!"

Bet couldn't say the same; she'd held out hope for some reason. "Sturges said we could starve them of supplies. It might do the trick since obviously diplomacy has gotten us nowhere." They continued to discuss what to do about this new development well into the night. However, Sturges proposed to give it a rest after they'd been at it for two hours.

"You've sure been fightin' hard to get justice for that Jack fellow." Sturges opened the door for her and followed her back into her home. He'd be leaving soon, but he wanted to make sure she was absolutely okay. "I know it's none of my business, but did you know him and his wife or something?"

She stopped in her tracks, and was glad he couldn't see her blush. "No, he pulled a gun on me and got kicked out of Goodneighbor for it. I guess I kinda felt guilty for being the reason he's homeless." She played with a frayed string on her sleeve. "When I found out what happened to his wife….well, my dad always used to accuse me of finding excuses to take up this or that cause." She yanked hard on the string to snap it off. "I just want the world to be a better place. Maybe I am a bit of a 'bleeding heart' like that guard said, but I truly think this is the right thing to do."

He couldn't deny that she did tend to fight a bit harder than was necessary for the things she believed it, but at least she believed in something. There weren't many people with the spark in their jumper cables to go through the trouble she'd been willing to jump into. "If you ever need a break from all of this-" He made a broad, vague gesture around them. "You'll always be welcome to visit me back at Sanctuary." He smiled at her and gave her a friendly, one-armed hug. "Be good, troublemaker. I'll see ya around."

Bet lingered outside her front door for a few minutes to enjoy the cool night air. She heard soft footsteps coming down the street and looked up to see Hancock standing in the pool of light coming from the neon sign of Kill or Be Killed. His face was shrouded in the shadow of his tricorn. "Hey." He whispered and she could hear the mischief in his raspy voice. "You wanna just shoot the shit for a while?" He winked at her. "We ain't been doin' much talkin' outside of savin' people."

"I don't really feel like sleeping, I suppose." She admitted. He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. They ducked into a nearby alley for a bit of privacy. One thing that still astounded her about this new world she'd stepped into was the beauty of the Commonwealth night sky. She could see every single star burning bright like a collection of campfires in a wide-open plain.

His eyes were bright enough to be stars themselves. He was watching her and smiling wolfishly. Her stomach did a weird flip while her heart felt like it was fit to burst from her chest. He was too close, much too close. When he finally spoke his voice was heavy with an emotion she could not understand. "You sure you got a minute to talk?"

She pulled his arm around her shoulders and smiled. "For you? Always."

He sucked in a breath. "You've done pretty well for yourself, doll. I'm a big fan of the 'pull yourself up by the bootstraps' type of attitude you've got goin' on." She shivered as the night's chill began to seep through her clothes. What was he trying to say? "Thing is…I've been thinkin' and I realized ya might've gotten the wrong idea about my expectations from you. Ya don't need to go around workin' yourself half to death to keep me as a friend. Hell, all I'm askin' from anyone here is to try not to be too much of an asshole."

She had no idea what he was talking about. "Hancock, where's all this coming from? I know I don't have to do any of the stuff I've been planning out. I told you the truth before when I said that I love what you've built here and I wanna do my part to help it grow into something even better."

"Babe, do ya even know how I made this town into what it is today?" It was a rhetorical question; he knew she didn't have a clue. He lit up a cigarette to calm his nerves. "When I first rolled into Goodneighbor, this place was being run into the ground by some asshole named Vic. He used us drifters like his own personal piggy bank and everybody was too damn yellow to do somethin' about it. He had this goon squad he'd use to keep us all in line and every once in a while he'd let 'em off the leash to go blow off some steam on the populace at large." He took a long drag off his smoke. "Folks with homes could lock their doors, but us drifters had it bad. There was one night…some drifter said somethin' to 'em and they cracked 'im open like a can of Cram on the pavement." His face was grim as he recounted the story. "Nobody did anything…not even me. Afterwards, I got so damn high that I blacked out."

She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. "It's not your fault. You were probably in shock. It can happen to anyone."

He finished the first cigarette, ground it out viciously with the heel of his boot, and lit up another. Jet would have done a hell of a lot more to ease his nerves, but he hated using chems in front of her. "When I finally came to, I was in the State House and starin' at the clothes of John Hancock; first American hoodlum and defender of the people. Those clothes spoke to me, so I smashed the case, put 'em on and started a new life…as Hancock. After that, I went clean for a bit…got organized… and managed to get KL-E-0 to lend me some hardware. Then, I rounded up a crew of drifters I trusted and we headed out into the wastes to train. Next time Vic let his boys out on a rampage, we'd be ready for them." Goddamnit, he was jonesin' for a bit of Jet, but he played it cool. He didn't want her to see how agitated he was in re-telling this old story.

She looked at him with an amused grin. "You…you don't actually think Hancock's clothes spoke to you, right?"

He laughed; it was a raspy sound like someone running their fingernails over old wood. "What? No. Why does everyone ask me that?" She gave him a look that told him he knew exactly why, but he just grinned at her and put out his cigarette. He didn't feel the need for Jet quite as bad now. "So, the night of, we all got loaded, let Vic's boys get good and hammered, and burst from the windows and rooftops where we'd been hiding. They never even saw it coming. We didn't have to fire a shot. We didn't have to. But we sure fuckin' did. It was a massacre. Once we'd mopped up, we strolled right into Vic's quarters in the State House, wrapped a rope around his neck, and threw him off the balcony." He spread his hands out in the air. "And there I am, gun in hand, draped in Hancock's duds, looking at all the people of Goodneighbor assembled below. I had to say something, but the first time I said 'em, they didn't even feel like my words; "Of the people, for the people" was my inaugural address. Became Mayor Hancock of Goodneighbor that day. And I vowed to myself I'd never stand by and watch ever again." He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "I just wanted ya to know I'm not out to get anybody who didn't earn it. I know I upset ya a while back with the whole thing with the Deluca boy, but that guy was scum. He never deserved ya."

She turned her head away and her bright green eyes darkened at the mention of her abusive lover. "I forgave you for that ages ago, if you can recall." She rubbed her eyes to give her an excuse not to have to look at him. "I just couldn't figure out why you pulled a stunt like that."

Something beyond starlight flickered in his eyes and he moved even closer. He leaned so that his mouth was right in her ear. "When ya told me what he did to you…it pissed me off royally. I couldn't stand to hear you defend him. Every time ya talked about it, you made it seem like it was your fault. You never had a reason to feel guilty over any of the shit he did to you, but he twisted you up inside and I could see it. I wanted to do more than just break a few bones." She wanted to speak, but her mouth was dry, her mind was fuzzy, and her body was radiating heat from a fire that had started inside her chest. "It nearly drove me feral to see him drag you around that fuckin' vault like he owned ya." He growled to himself and hugged her close. "He'll never lay so much as a finger on you again."

Breathless, she managed to force herself to reply. "Hancock, have you been at the Mentats again?"

A shameless smirk was her answer. "You say that like ya don't know me, doll."

She forced herself to ask the question that was burning at the forefront of her foggy mind. "Does anyone really know anybody? You probably thought I was gonna get myself killed out here."

One of his hands made its way to the small of her back. "I won't deny I was about 80% sure you'd be pickin' your teeth out of a gutter by the second day, but I'm pretty damn glad I was wrong." He purred. "Gotta hand it to ya, you're tougher than you look." He stepped back and let his hands drop back to his sides, but it was harder for him to do that than it should have been. "So, you gonna tell me about your adventure? Been stuck back here this entire time takin' care of business an' all kinds of borin' shit."

She launched into the story with fervor; the encounter with the raiders on the bridge, the race, and the subsequent skirmish with the Gunners that had made her into an honorary Atom Cat. He listened intently the entire time. "And then, Gamble didn't want us to leave without him, so I had to bring him with us…so, yeah…I have a dog now."

"Can't say I won't sleep a little easier knowin' you've got more to protect ya than that tiny-ass pistol." He scratched Gamble behind the ears. "Guess you've got a way with ghouls, am I right?"

"He also works pretty well as a substitute if I forget my flashlight." She chuckled at her own joke.

Hancock rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I was wonderin' if ya felt like comin' up to the State House tomorrow night." He said after he finished playing with her puppy. He hadn't had a relaxing night with her in weeks, but it felt like forever. Fahrenheit would be down at the Rail, but he didn't feel like sharing Bet's company anyway. He braced one hand against the brick wall behind her, but kept the other pressed against her lower back.

The bitter scent of Gray Tortoise cigarettes bit at the inside of her nose and, below that was a smell she couldn't quite place. It wasn't sweet, bitter, or salty, but a strange combination of all three. She could smell the hint of grape flavored Mentats on his breath, too. The overall effect was nice –so much better than having to deal with Bobby trying to steal a kiss when his breath reeked like Brahmin shit. She slid one hand up to rest on his right shoulder. She wanted dearly to touch his face, but she didn't dare to take it that far. There was something deep inside that recognized that she did want this, but she wasn't ready. She'd only just recently been able to face the fact that Bobby had caused the majority of the problems in their relationship. On the other hand, she sensed that there was something between her and Hancock –she wasn't an idiot, after all. If he was 'just' her friend, he wouldn't have let so many of his touches linger and he definitely wouldn't have her pressed up against a wall in an alley. If he was 'just' a friend, her heart wouldn't be trying to bust out of her ribcage nor would she pressing her legs together to soothe the ache that was growing between them.

"Cat got your tongue, babe?" His warm breath ghosted over the skin of her neck and made her shiver a little. Damn, she wasn't ready to take any risks, but he was making it so _hard_ to keep a leash on her impulses. She caved a tiny bit and placed her other hand just below his collarbone. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her back, but she wasn't about to complain.

She couldn't speak and she could barely think; it was exactly like being drunk. Her stomach even felt a bit fluttery, but that could have been just nerves. Her brain screamed for her to say something back because she was terrified he might just walk away if she didn't. "Y-ye-es." It came out broken and higher-pitched than she'd wished, but her jaw had finally worked itself loose. Her tongue felt leaden in her mouth.

He bent his head down and leaned his forehead against hers. His mouth tilted down at the edges in a slight frown. "You okay?" She looked torn between fear, anxiety, and desire. He was more than okay with the desire part, but the other two had him re-thinking his advances. Hancock decided to back off; he wasn't about to coerce her when she was obviously unsure. He was stopped only by her grip on his shoulder and her hand that had fisted in the material of his frock coat.

She was breathing a bit heavier now, but when she met his eyes again he could clearly see that she wanted him. "John, I-"

She was interrupted by a loud, metallic bang and the sounds of several people rushing by the alley. Confused, muffled voices were murmuring out in the street. Her arms fell to her sides and Hancock was freed from her grasp, but he cursed whatever goings-on had ruined the moment. They left the alley to investigate and found a thin grouping of people crouched around the unconscious, bloody body of a ghoul. Hancock weaved his way through the crowd and knelt down beside the ghoul to check for signs of life. A weight formed in his stomach when he recognized him as Jack. "Bet, go get Doctor Amari and tell her to bring a medkit!" He ordered in a hollow voice. The knees of his trousers were slowly becoming soaked with Jack's blood. This was entirely his fault; he should never have exiled Jack. His hands balled at his sides as a mix of rage and remorse flooded his system. He'd never despised himself more than at that very moment.

The crowd was dispersing a little at a time, and it was soon down to just Hancock and Daisy. Daisy knew her mayor almost as well as any of his closest friends and she could feel the pain rolling off of him. "You're not like _him_ , John." Her raspy whisper broke the deadly silence. "You made sure he had a place in The Slog and plenty of ammo before he left. Hell, you made sure he left with a trader. You didn't just cast him out like they did at Diamond City and it wasn't supposed to be a permanent thing-"

Hancock was working hard at pumping Jack's chest in a crude attempt to give CPR. "Doesn't…matter…" He was getting out of breath. His heart was racing and the world was tinged with darkness around the edges as his own vision pulsated with his heartbeat. It looked like everything was alive and crawling over everything else –everything except Jack. He worked harder and tipped Jack's chin up to open up his airway. He opened Jack's mouth, placed his hand over the ghoul's mouth as a barrier, and started giving him breaths.

"John, ya look like you're gonna pass out." Daisy admonished in a firm, motherly voice. "Budge over and let me-"

"NO!" He snapped at her. "This is my fault!"

Daisy didn't even flinch. Instead, she pushed him to the side. "You need a shot of Calmex before ya workin' yourself into a fit of frenzy." She continued his work for him, but she was only needed for a couple more seconds before Amari arrived. Bet could see the plain distress scrawled all over Hancock's face, so she made a tactful decision to get him out of there. She hauled him up by his arm and pulled him back; he didn't struggle as hard as he could have, but that was only because he was afraid he'd accidentally hurt her if he did.

Daisy pushed herself up off of the cobblestone street and hurried over. She quickly assessed Hancock's frantic eyes and slipped a syringe of Calmex into Bet's pocket. "Take him into the State House. He's not going to be any help if we can't get him to start thinking straight again." She advised her solemnly.

"What's wrong? Why's he acting this way?" Bet puffed hard as he tried to pull away from her. She had her arms wrapped around his upper arms and she was dragging him resolutely toward the side door of the State House.

Daisy rubbed a worn hand over her worried face. "He'll tell you that when he's ready. You just need to get him away from all of this."

"Let me go, Bet. I don't wanna hurt ya." Hancock growled down at her. He wasn't angry with her, but she was getting in his way. One of his flailing elbows caught her right in the solar plexus just as they reached the top step and it knocked the wind out of her. She let go with a gasp and fell hard to her knees. He took off with only a short glance over his shoulder to check to see if she was alright. A large part of him felt awful for doing it, but another part of his mind was railing at him for basically sentencing Jack to death. "Amari!" He caught the doctor as she and Daisy were loading Jack up on to an old-as-fuck gurney to get him down to her office in the Memory Den. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

Daisy sighed and shook her head; she should have known Bet wouldn't be able to hold on to Hancock if he really wanted to break free. "Multiple lacerations and contusions." Amari replied in a short tone. "He has quite a few that are extremely deep and if I didn't know better…" She frowned at her patient. "If I didn't know better, I would have said that he was operated on, but that's impossible. There are very few people in the Commonwealth with the skill to do that." She looked up from Jack's prone body. "He is breathing now, thanks to you and Daisy. However, I would advise you to leave it to me to take care of him."

Daisy grabbed her mayor's shoulder and steered him in the opposite direction. "You are going to go back there and apologize for doin' whatever ya did to make Bet let go of you. She was just tryin' to help ya. Behave yourself, young man, and leave the rest to us." She shoved him away and slammed the Memory Den's double doors shut.

Bet had caught her breath by the time he returned. She was rubbing her side and wincing. "You have really sharp elbows." She felt the area gingerly with her fingertips before she pulled up her shirt and grimaced at the bruise that was already forming there. He kept his distance while she picked tiny shards of stone out of the scrapes on her knees. "I'm not mad." He gave her a skeptical look and she crossed her arms. "Okay, I'm kinda mad, but I'm going to sit here and listen to your explanation." She glared at him. "It had better be a _very_ good explanation."

He had a nagging feeling that, depending on how he put a spin on things, their entire friendship could crash and burn or she'd be willing to forgive and forget. He hoped like hell it would be the latter. "I didn't want to hurt ya." He started off sheepishly.

"Yeah, I got that part." She sighed. "The point is; you did and I want to know why. I know you, John. Now please stop stalling and tell me what had you so freaked out."

He fiddled with the tattered edge of his frock. "It…reminded me of what happened in Diamond City." He told her hesitantly. He saw her confused look and remembered he hadn't told her a lot about his life before Goodneighbor. "I grew up in Diamond City in a little shack on the waterfront. I had a standard big brother; the punchy, entitled type who loved to shove rotten tatos down my shirt and slap my back. All in all, I thought we had a pretty good childhood, but then he decided he wanted to get elected." His eyes narrowed slightly as he brought back to that disturbing moment. "He went on this anti-ghoul crusade…guess he thought the assholes in the Upper Stands would vote for him if he did."

"That's sick, who does something like that?" Her mouth was pinched in disgust.

He went on. "Not sure if it was really him back then or if it was his synth replacement." He backed up a bit because he realized he'd gotten ahead of himself. "Anyway, I stormed into his office, but he just said 'I did it, John. I finally did it.' And then he smiled. It was this hideous, mile-long smile. That fuckin' smile was plastered all over his fat face while he watched his 'citizens' drag people they used to call neighbor out of their homes to throw 'em out into the ruins."

"Wait, so he threw you out, too? His own brother?" She looked horrified.

"Nah, I wasn't a ghoul back then, so I didn't have to leave." He gritted his teeth to keep his anger under control. "I knew I couldn't stay in that cesspool any longer, though, so I found a few of the families and brought them to Goodneighbor. I'd been sneakin' off to Goodneighbor for years to get decent chems, so I knew all the safe routes. Most of them just couldn't get used to the Goodneighbor lifestyle and they just…disappeared. Whoever that bastard was, he signed those people's death warrants…him and that whole damned city."

"What do you mean by 'whoever that bastard was'? I thought he was your brother?" Her eyes widened as she pieced the clues together. "You think he was replaced?"

He looked away. "Not sure if he was replaced around the time he ran for the election or if he really was guilty of murderin' those ghouls. It's…hard to think about it. I never thought he was capable of doin' something like that, so maybe…" He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Anyway, he was replaced at some point. His replacement nearly murdered your friend Danny after Nora nuked the Institute."

She frowned hard. "Danny never mentioned anything about that. Granted, I guess we didn't have much time for an in-depth conversation." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "So, you're saying that you've equated your temporary ban on Jack to throwing innocent people out." She laced her fingers together in her lap. "John, those are two completely different circumstances. I heard what Daisy said. You made sure Jack had plenty of supplies as well as a place to go before you asked him to leave. Also, he was a legitimate danger to the community here because of his emotional and mental instability. Meanwhile, and correct me if I'm wrong, you try to tell me that throwing out innocent and peaceful families who are bereft of supplies is the same thing." She rubbed her temple. "That is essentially illogical, John. It's like trying to compare melons to gourds."

He could feel himself calming down, but he was still bothered by his actions. "If he dies, that's blood on my hands."

She pinched her nose out of frustration. "What did I _just_ say, John? The situations are similar in the way that melons and gourds are both plants, but that doesn't mean I would put a melon in vegetable stew nor would I put a gourd in a fruit salad. That's exactly what you're trying to do, John. You're trying to put a gourd in a fruit salad. It tastes wrong and you know it tastes wrong, but you're stubborn, so you keep trying to eat it." He scoffed at her strange metaphor, but she just rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

He picked up his hand and ran his hand over his head. "Yeah, I guess I do."

She smiled warmly. "Feel better?"

"Don't be smug." He grumbled, but he was forcing back a tiny smile. "Sorry for…overreacting. You wanna hang out at the State House with me until Daisy has some news?" He asked guiltily. His outstretched hand hung in the air for what felt like hours. She looked at him and then at his offered hand. "Is everything fucked or are we good?"

She shook her head, which sent her wild curls flying in all directions. "We're fine." She smirked playfully. "That being said, my stomach still hurts." She was feeling a bit more daring than usual. "Care to kiss it better?"

He arched an eyebrow at her and settled his arm back across her shoulders. "Is that a rhetorical question?" She leaned into the familiar embrace and wrapped her own arm around his middle.

Fahrenheit was waiting for them upstairs with a smoke trapped between her lips, which were drawn taut. The plume of cigarette smoke was opacus and hung about her like a raincloud stuck on a mountain. She blew out through her mouth as if their appearance were both a complete vexation and a grand relief. "So, Jack is back in town." She tore the finished cigarette from her lips and mashed the end into a nearby ashtray like the thing had insulted her. "How should we play this, Hancock?" Her voice was roughened by both the smoke and a hash of emotion.

"Cool and smooth, until we have more information." His eyes zeroed in on the pile of ash and smashed butts in the ashtray. "Far as I know, Goodneighbor isn't in immediate danger. You can relax."

Fahre was definitely out of sorts; she kept making restless, swaying movements by shifting her weight to one foot and then to the other like a frenetic serpent preparing itself to bite. Her venom was not in her teeth, however, but in her words. "Something is up with this." She hissed through her clenched jaw. "Neither one of you is leaving this room tonight."

Hancock glanced at Bet with concern for his friend in his stygian gaze. "Sure, Fahre." He had his hands up with his palms facing outward. "Let's just sit down and chill-"

"I'm going to guard the door." Her intonation was waspish and her words were choppy with tempestuous attitude. The door struck its frame with enough force to feel the vibration of her disturbed departure all the way across the room. Her heavy footfalls began to beat a rhythm against the abused hardwood floor.

Bet sporadically glanced at the door, behind which Fahre's fervent pacing continued for the greater part of the night. She was worried for her and concerned as to why Fahrenheit was acting like she was being forced to do a jig across a valley made of pins and needles. The fourth time Hancock caught her staring at the door, he nudged her shoulder. "She's like this sometimes. Ya just gotta let it pass. She's always sayin' I don't worry enough and I'm always tellin' her it's because she worries enough about the both of us."

"Heaven protect the fool who tries to cross her tonight." Bet continued to fret, but she slowly let go of any thoughts of trying to comfort their mutual friend. She rested her head on Hancock's shoulder while he sucked away on a Mentat. She realized, with a slightly irked frown, that he still did not imbibe his usual amount of drugs with her around. The single Mentat in his mouth was the only one she'd seen him take the entire night.

"Hancock, do you remember what I said about being yourself around me?" She inquired contemplatively.

He pulled his tricorn down low to better hide his eyes. "Before you start on that again, I just didn't think it was a good idea to get stoned out of my gourd during the current situation." She punched his shoulder out of retaliation because, despite it being an excuse, he did have a point. "Why do you want me to get high so badly?" He grinned and gently tugged on a strand of her mussed curls. "Oh, I get it. You think I will be easier to coerce into bed." He relished the massive blush that spread like an ink blot across her cheeks.

"That is just…I mean, no." She pinched her lips into an adorable pucker as she often did when he was being snarky or teasing her. He knew it was an attempt to fight a losing battle against the laughter that sparkled in her eyes.

The edge of his thin lips cocked up into a self-assured smirk. "You know you want to laugh." He cooed at her.

"Shut up." She was blinking back tears of mirth. "If I laugh, my side will start killing me again." She remembered too late the invitation she'd given him earlier and her brain abruptly stopped functioning properly when he yanked her fully into his lap. "Wha-!" Was her articulate reaction to him pushing up the edge of her threadbare T-shirt. She shuddered when he brushed his thumb over the light bruise that decorated the area between her hip and lower stomach.

The point of his tricorn tickled the skin over her ribs as he dipped his head down to ghost his mouth up to her side. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she felt him flick his tongue between his lips to tease her with the barest hint of debauchery. His breath was cold blowing over her dampened skin, but he might as well have been a dragon because she was roasting on the inside from the heat of the moment. Her breathing had become ragged and erratic because he didn't stop with just that minuscule span of skin, but he continued to place devilish kisses from hip to hip. She considered knocking his hat off his smug head when he ceased his ministrations, but his mischievous grin stole away both her breath and any thoughts of sass. "Feel better?" He parroted her words from hours earlier.

She shifted her balance in his lap and tried not to react too much when she accidentally brushed his erection through the fabric of his pants. She wasn't a virgin; for goodness sakes, but he had her all shook up like this _was_ her first time. She wasn't innocent, but sex was kind of a taboo subject in the vault, so each kid was taught the rudimentary aspects of the act, and then set free into the world with a mind full of questions and a bag full of condoms. She didn't really feel like thinking of Bobby at all, least of all when John had her like this, but it was hard to refrain from marveling at the stark contrast between them at this moment.

Bobby wouldn't have done that, she silently mused, he'd never been much of a kisser. It was always rushed with him and she could count his sex moves on one hand; show up high as a kite, demand sex, receive said sex, and immediately leave to seek more drugs. Hell, she was pretty sure the last time they had cuddled was as teenagers.

John was different. They hadn't even had a proper kiss yet and she could already tell he was different. It was like comparing night and day. She smiled beamishly at her favorite ghoul in the world. " _Loads_ , but you missed a few spots." She heard him suck in a sharp breath as she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor.

 _Hot damn_. "Hm, yeah, you're right." His mind clouded over a little with the view presented to him. His hands ached to undo the clasp on her bra, but he settled for rubbing tiny circles over her hips with his thumbs. He needed to make sure, absolutely sure, she wanted this to go any further, so he let her lead. "Are you sure, sweetness?"

Her silence was killing him and he prepared for a change of heart. "I want you, John." Her voice was wavering a little, but he hadn't a real clue as to why. She rubbed her cheek against his and it never ceased to amaze him how she'd never been remotely fazed by the idea of touching him. She kissed the hollow behind his jaw. "Now is just not the right time; I'd rather we not get interrupted again." Her expectant gaze flicked to the door as if a knock would come on cue.

Hancock trailed his fingers up her spine reverently. "I could always push a couch against the door." He was almost serious. She played with the ruffles of his frock and fiddled with the buttons. Her fingers danced along the small area of exposed skin on his upper chest and right along the collarbone. She leaned in and kissed him there. She continued up his throat, followed his jawline, and planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I'm not saying no, John, I'm just saying we probably shouldn't be doing this right now." She rubbed against him and his hips bucked up into the touch. "We can, however, do whatever won't require us to have to explain rumpled clothes and the smell of sex."

He pulled her down so that her forehead touched his lightly. "Not a problem, babe." He admired her upper body with a hungry look that suddenly turned apprehensive. He finally noticed a long, thin scar down her side. Now that the blinding haze of lust was clearing, he could plainly see a cluster of smaller, thicker, and obviously more recent, scars that peppered her stomach. He met her eyes and his jaw tensed. "Ya lied to me." He sounded frustrated and pained as if every mark was being carved into him in that moment. He tapped her side. "Up, sugar bomb."

She closed her eyes and sighed. Of course, he'd be disgusted. She really should have expected it after lying to him like she had. "I'm-"

He held up a hand. "Don't you dare apologize to me. Turn around and show me what that dead-as-fuck motherfucker did to my baby." Her heart gave a start even as her stomach rolled. She hadn't even had the courage to look at herself in the mirror, much less allow someone else to look at her. She tucked her chin into her chest and her eyes squeezed shut, she moved up and away to let him see.

Hancock felt a fury that went beyond mere words as his ebony eyes scanned inch after inch of scars, some spaced wide apart and others crisscrossing each other in thick bands of puckered, welted skin. A myriad of injuries to her back appeared to have been made by something long and wide. "The fuck did he use on you?" He made a sinister growl low in his throat that sounded close a feral's ghoul's snarl.

A couple of tears made it down her cheeks and dripped down to her chin. "Mostly a belt." Her words were tight and her tongue felt too thick to properly form the words. "It had metal studs pushed into the leather as decoration…" She gave an involuntary shudder as an evil memory surged forth, but she pushed it away with an ease that came of years of practice. John's fingers traced some of the uglier, more knotted scars and she had to force herself not to withdraw. _It's John, it's John_ , she repeated over and over again in her head, but her heart wouldn't cease its panicked knocking against her ribcage. Her blood rushed in her ears like waves crashing against the shore in a storm.

"Fuck, you're shaking!" Hancock pulled his hands away as if he'd been burned.

His voice snapped her out of it and she opened her eyes, which took more effort emotionally than she'd ever care to admit, and broke through the trepidation of the moment. Her hands went to the metal button that clasped the top of her jeans closed, unzipped, and let her pants fall. She knew that a lot of the scars on her legs were the worst, which was why she always took care to cover herself down to the ankles.

The backs of her legs were riddled with thin, wiry marks that went diagonally down her upper thighs and met at the backs of her knees. One leg, the one she'd broken in her fall down the stairs, had a small and jagged scar where a bit of the bone had stabbed through the skin. She couldn't speak because she knew she'd break the spell of courage she'd come under. She heard John suck in a sharp, angry breath behind her, but she wasn't prepared for him to wrap his arms around her bare waist and rest his head against her ruined back. He was murmuring inaudible things to himself, but his voice sounded raw and bitter. He finally looked at her over her shoulder. "Where's my hat?" There was an intensity and urgency in his question that hinted at what he was going to do.

"Please, John, no." She wiped at the wet remnants of tears that streaked her cheeks, but more followed to replace the ones she wiped away.

He met her eyes as he tugged on his tricorn. "He's dead. He's a fuckin' dead man walkin'." He grabbed his shotgun, an ammo bag, and then turned back to her. "Go ahead and get dressed, babe. We're heading down to that fuckin' vault and I'm going to crucify this motherfucker."

She stood frozen to the spot, tears flooding her eyes and her nose running, while Hancock shouted for Fahrenheit. Realizing that the woman would be in the room at any moment, she hastily pulled her clothes back on and sat down on the couch with her face hidden in her hands. "You said you wouldn't hurt him again unless he tried something!" She tried to remind him.

Fahrenheit eyed her with apprehension as she walked into the room. "What happened?" She asked Hancock.

His temper was obviously getting the better of him and he was huffing like a Brahmin. "I'm gonna kill a bitch, that's what." He snapped lividly. "We're gonna pay sugar bomb's ex-asshole a visit." He laughed, but it was more of a vicious snarl than a real laugh. "And then I'm going to make him feel ten times the pain he put her through before I rip his fuckin' head off."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Fahrenheit pushed him for answers, but he only glanced over his shoulder at Bet. His furious gaze softened a little as he watched her quietly sob into her hands. Fahrenheit's lips tightened and her ice-blue eyes narrowed, her arctic gaze turned subzero in a flurry of understanding revelation. "And you haven't killed him already?" She questioned in a nearly accusatory tone.

He shook his head. "She begged me not to the first time, but now…" He trailed off and wiped his hand over his face. " _Goddamnit_ , Fahre. She swore he only slapped her around! As far as I can see, it looks like he beat her half to death on a pretty fuckin' regular basis. Who knows what else the shithead did that she's terrified to tell me about." Fahrenheit had never witnessed this level of agitation in her friend ever before. His eyes were aflame with black wildfire, and his features were twisted up between wrath, vengeance, and agonized sadness. His rad-scarred hands were clamped around the length of his gun like two vices.

Still, she could hear that girl weeping pitifully and it bit at her. "I don't think this is a good idea." She advised him in a whisper.

He sucked on his teeth. "You sayin' I _shouldn't_ kill that cuntbiscuit?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, by all means, kill him. I'm sayin' don't take her with you. Go grab Dick Tracy from Diamond City, and those kids Travis and Danny, and maybe even that gang she went gallivanting off to with What's-His-Face…the Bomb Babies or some shit like that. People who give a damn about her nearly as much as you do."

"The Atom Cats…huh, wonder what that fuckwad's face would look like smashed in by power armor…" He smiled and it was nothing like his usual ones. This smile promised ultimate agony and it promised that he'd enjoy every second of it. "Good idea, Fahre. Have I ever told ya how many good ideas you tend to have? 'Cause that's the best fuckin' image I've conjured up in a while." He reached up and squeezed her armored shoulder. All of a sudden, his face screwed up in a grimace. "Oh, hell, how the fuck am I going to grab Valentine and the boys from Diamond City? The guards will load me full of lead as soon as look at me."

Fahre scratched the shaved side of her head. "I'll go with you, that's how. Ham will take charge while we're away." Her eyes flicked back over to Bet. "We'll go get Daisy and Magnolia. They'll know how to take care of your girl."

Hancock nodded and she could see that his flare of anger was already subsiding. He'd always been like this; quick as a spark to grow into a white-hot inferno, but just as quick to burn himself out. In the span of a few seconds, he went from ready to rip out throats to ready to make jokes. "Fahre, can ya give us a bit?"

Fahre acquiesced without another word and closed the door behind her. Hancock took a seat beside Bet and rubbed circles on her back. "Can ya look at me?" She was hunched over her knees with her arms crossed at the base of her stomach. Her face was blotchy and swollen from crying, but, thankfully, no more tears came. He pulled her closer to his side, but she was still tense and either couldn't or wouldn't relax. "Babe, it's okay."

A couple of minutes passed before she let out a breath like a deflated balloon and pressed her cheek to his chest. He massaged her scalp soothingly. "Daisy'll take care of you while I'm gone and maybe Magnolia, too." He chuckled. "You still got that crush on her?"

No answer for several minutes, but then she finally spoke. "You'll come back as soon as you can, right?"

"You know it." Relief flooded him. "It shouldn't be too long, maybe a few weeks, and I'm bringin' the crew. They'd wanna visit ya, I think, after that."

She craned her neck up to question him. "The crew? What crew?" She looked so astonished that if the situation wasn't serious, it would have been a comical expression.

"Your friends, babe, remember?" He furrowed his brow at her. "Nick, Travis, Danny, and the Cats?"

She paled and ducked her head back down. "Don't tell them, John. They'd think-"

He sighed heavily. "I have to if ya don't want me to kill him outright. If it's just me, I'm gonna kill 'im as soon as I see him. I can promise they won't think badly of you." He held his tongue in regards to what he couldn't promise, however, because he knew at least a few of the Cats would want a go at DeLuca after he'd had his chance.

She shifted and he noticed that she was pulling into herself again. "They'll think I'm stupid and weak." She sniffed hard and he held her tighter.

"No, they won't." He told her firmly.

"I can take care of myself. Daisy has enough on her plate helping with Jack." She said in a shaky voice. "At least give me that."

He pressed his lips into a thin, indecisive line, but he knew if he didn't allow her some semblance of control she might break down again. "Alright, sweetness, but Magnolia is still going to stop by once a day to check on you." She nodded and was seemingly placated by this compromise. " _And_ you have to sleep here tonight, so that you have the Watch on every floor if ya need someone." He kissed the top of her head. "Gonna miss ya like crazy."

He didn't leave until she felt comfortable enough to go to sleep. He threw a threadbare blanket over her, stocked up on some supplies for the road, and headed out the door. His hand lingered on the door handle for a minute after he'd closed it gently to avoid waking her. He spun on his heel and twisted the knob again to sneak one last look at her before he had to leave for a month. He stared at her and a part of him tore up a bit. "Sorry, babe. He's dead either way." He muttered under his breath.


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn't hard to convince Nick, Travis, and Danny to get in on the plan on fuck up Bobby Deluca. Nick, of course, wanted a full-on trial-style for Bobby, but dropped that idea when he took note of the murderous gleam in Hancock's eye. He recognized that there wasn't going to be much room to reason with his friend about this. He just had to hope Hancock could restrain himself long enough to convince the Overseer of Vault 81 to agree that Deluca deserved punishment.

The trip down to the Atom Cat's garage was a bit slower and more tedious. For one, they only had Nora's directions to go by. Secondly, the Gunners in Quincy were definitely a reason to stay alert, slow, and low. None of them were prepared for a massive gunfight because they were traveling light. However, when they did finally reach the garage, they were met with blazing hot enthusiasm to kick ass.

"So, you're tellin' us that snake did a number on Bet?" Zeke commented crossly once the gang had heard the story. "Whatchya think about this, Cats?"

Roxy rubbed hard at her eyes. "I say we fuck up that Clyde's day in a major way." She popped the collar of her jacket and fingered the switchblade in her pocket.

Duke, Johnny D., and Bluejay all had a murderous vibe coming from them. Bluejay cracked his knuckles over and over, while Johnny D. grumbled to himself. "That shit's fucked up, man." Duke spoke up with an edge to his voice that would've made a razor jealous. "Anyone that messes with a Cat gets the claws. Let's tear him a new asshole."

"Hey, now Cats, let's be reasonable." Zeke cut in with a wily smile. "Let's tear him several new assholes, so he gets to choose which one he wants to use to shit himself." He grinned widely at Hancock. "I don't wanna go mushy on ya, but Bet couldn't have roped herself a better guy." He shook hands with the mayor. "You didn't have to come all the way here to get us on the up and up. Personally, I can't wait to pound that nosebleed into the pavement. I call dibs on the second round of layin' into him."

With the Atom Cats entirely onboard, Nick Valentine took Hancock aside and decided that now was the best time to have the discussion he'd been planning out since Hancock picked him up from Diamond City. "Listen, Hancock, I know you care for Bet." He began prudently. "I just want to prepare you on how to deal with this in a way that won't upset the burgeoning relationship between the two of you." He took a draw from his cigarette and continued. "I took on a lot of domestic dispute, domestic violence, and other such cases back in the day…well, the other Nick did the majority, but there've been a few in the past years for me, too. I've seen women who've taken beatings so bad they can hardly walk crawl back to their abusers on their hands and knees and, all the while, begging to be forgiven for perceived slights. Hancock…John…does Bet know what you're planning to do and, more importantly, is she okay with it?"

"Yeah, she knows, but as for the other part-" Hancock rubbed at his jaw and scowled. "When she went back to Vault 81 to get some stuff from her granddad, I couldn't help myself. He was hurtin' her again, so I beat the fucker to a pulp. She wasn't happy with me, to say the least, and said she was pissed because the guards might have killed me, but it was always at the back of my mind that she might still love 'im. It kills me 'cause I still don't know if she wants to protect him from me because there's still a part of her that loves him or if she's really afraid they'd execute me."

Nick nodded somberly and ground out the butt of his first cigarette, only to light up a second. "Hancock, you've got my sympathy, but you've got to know that working with battered women is an uphill battle. I can't say if she loves him or not, but I do know that women in her situation typically run back to their abusers out of terror and not out of actual love for them. She's probably terrified he'd somehow survive, and with you dead, who'd protect her from him?" He sighed at his friend's confused expression. "I know it sounds illogical, but the fear he's instilled in her isn't something that can be fixed overnight. She can't help it right now, but maybe she could get better if you're patient and if…" He paused and looked him in the eye, his amber eyes glowed in the darkness like twin suns. "If you love her enough to stick it through, she'll have bad days and good days, even a few days that are in-between, and she'll need you every second of it. Do you think you can do that? If you can't, I can't let you take this any further." He planted his feet firmly on the ground and steeled himself to hear Hancock out.

The mayor adjusted his frock coat. "I can do it."

Nick cocked his head to the side. "That isn't a full answer, John, and you know it. I think you're afraid to say it, but I can see it. I just need to hear it and I'll do everything I can to help you get your justice from Bobby DeLuca."

Hancock pulled his tricorn down low over his face and turned about-face. "I dunno, Nick, I want to, but sayin' it is just…" He whirled around and his coat whipped about his boots with the sudden motion. "What if it's not like that for her?" A rare show of his hidden insecurities strangled his words into a mumbled, desperate mess.

Nick sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets. "Three words, John, but no one should say them lightly." He shook his head. "I know you can do this, and you know I wouldn't make it a stipulation if I didn't think you were capable or if you didn't truly feel it."

Hancock paced back and forth. Every single memory he had of Bet flashed in his mind's eye; their first encounter down in Vault 81, their trouble with raiders and how the first time she'd ever shot a gun was to save his life, all of the time spent gathering junk for her still, all of the times he'd pulled out every stop just to hear her laugh and see her smile, and the first time he realized she'd never flinched away from him the way she did everyone else. "Nick, I think I love her." He said in a quiet, awed voice. "No, I _know_ I love her and I'll try my damnedest to earn hers in return, regardless of what happens to that little Deluca shit."

Nick beamed proudly at him. "There you go, kid. Now, let's round up the boys and head on over to that vault."

Traveling in power armor does make everything a hell of a lot easier, and they made a good time across the Commonwealth. Travelling in groups was typically dangerous if one didn't have enough manpower and guns to fend off the rabble-rousers, but power armor made all the difference. Raiders barely bothered them, but they stood no chance when they did. It sped up the trip by about three days and they were standing outside the vault by the middle of the second week out of the garage.

Hancock led the way, but Nick was right on his heels. He pressed the speaker button just outside the vault door. "This is Nick Valentine, Nora's husband, and I'm coming in with a group to discuss an urgent matter with the Overseer."

A familiar voice came over the loudspeaker. "This is the Overseer, I can see you have the ghoul who nearly beat Bobby DeLuca to death for seemingly no reason. I'm not letting any of your group in unless I get an explanation for that."

"I'll tell 'er." Hancock interjected in a loud voice. "Yeah, I fucked him up, but did you know how he was treatin' Bet? I caught 'im pushin' and slingin' her around, but that's not the only shit he pulled. Did any of your people know he was beatin' her within an inch of her life every chance he got?"

"Betty Stillwater?" The Overseer was obviously making quite the effort to sound surprised. "I was under the impression that queer girl left him to chase sin in the Commonwealth."

Nick shouldered Hancock aside before his temper got the better of him and the chance they had at getting Deluca was literally shut down. "Well, I'm afraid you were misinformed, ma'am. In any case, we aren't here to debate the circumstances around her departure. We're here on Bet's behalf to request that Bobby DeLuca is punished for his abuse."

"What proof do you have beyond a ghoul witness and the word of a half-wit girl?" The Overseer asked demandingly.

Valentine's thin lips turned down in a severe frown."Well, she did claim that several years ago she and Bobby were having an argument and she admitted he pushed her down a set of stairs. She broke her wrist and her leg. Would I be wrong in assuming that would be in her medical records?" Nick asked calmly, though he was frowning and obviously a little disconcerted by the Overseer's lack of concern or knowledge of what had occurred under her prideful nose. "Also, she probably would have gone to the doctor with frequent, unexplained injuries; perhaps cuts or bruises, and the occasional black eye or split lip."

"Fine, I will look into it. However, if there is nothing of concern, I suggest you should all leave." The Overseer left them with only silence to accompany them.

"Can you believe that? This broad's determined to give us the royal shaft!" Zeke exclaimed from behind Hancock.

Travis chimed in and he sounded uncharacteristically angry. "This…this is bullshit, man." He was shaking like someone had dumped ice water on his head. Danny caught Travis's eye and made a motion that clearly said Travis needed to calm down. Travis turned away, frowning, but refrained from saying anything else. Nick shot Danny a grateful look; at least he knew that rash behavior was the absolute last thing needed in such a sensitive case.

Which is why, Nick thought to himself with a mental sigh, Hancock shouldn't have even come. John 'Hancock' McDonough was practically the king of rash and impulsive behavior. To be fair, Hancock also had a good amount of control and a substantially long fuse, but to be even fairer, that long fuse led to 180 pounds of ghoulified dynamite. The Cats weren't exactly thinking clearly either, Nick could plainly see their homicidal intentions, and so it looked as if it were up to him and Danny to keep cool heads. He glanced at Hancock again, who had lit up a cigarette and was clenching the filter between gritted teeth, and hoped he could talk the man down if he got riled up again.

Everyone waited anxiously for the Overseer to answer, but they all stood there for the better part of an hour. Hancock had started pacing, Travis had sat down on the cavern floor with his head against the wall, and meanwhile, Danny kept tapping his fingers rhythmically against the metal railing to the tune of 'Atom Bomb Baby'. Zeke and the rest of the Cats kept their cool, but were muttering amongst themselves and Nick could occasionally catch snatches of conversation that sounded suspiciously like they were plotting Bobby's painful demise. Nick rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows and then at his temples; it was just a habit, but he felt he needed to do something or he would short-circuit.

They all jumped as static loudly buzzed over the intercom. "I've read over Ms. Stillwater's file and…" She paused with a defeated sigh. "It seems you were right, Mr. Valentine. The doctor himself admitted that he suspected something was wrong for a long time, but he felt it wasn't his place to mention it. Given this evidence, the doctor's testimonial affirming the records to be correct, and Deluca's well-known history of severe drug addiction, I believe your claims to be true."

"What actions do you intend to take?" Nick inquired sternly.

The Overseer answered immediately. "We can no longer abide Deluca's presence in Vault 81. He was directly responsible for a young child's nearly fatal encounter with a mole rat and now we have solid proof that he has violent tendencies. He is a danger to everyone here, but our laws forbid us to resort to execution, except in the case of murder, so he is exiled from the vault. He will be exiting Vault 81 now and you may do with him as you please or leave him to his own devices. He is no longer my concern."

The vault door opened its great metal maw with a sound akin to steel teeth gnashing together. A handful of guards marched from its jaws on a grated tongue. They said nothing at all to the outsiders, but simply waited at the vault entrance. Finally, faint struggling and shouting could be heard. Deluca soon came into view with his arms secured behind his back and with a guard on both sides. They forced him forward with little effort, despite the fact that he appeared to be struggling with everything he had.

Nick noticed that Hancock had gone completely, dangerously still with a frozen snarl on his lips. "Not yet." He hissed in a tense whisper. Hancock didn't make any sign that he'd even heard his old friend, but he did keep himself from closing the distance to Deluca.

Bobby was thrown on to his knees outside the vault door and there was a sheer terror in his eyes when he recognized who was waiting for him. One of the guards, who had grown up with both Bobby and Bet, scowled at him. "Sucks to be you, man." He said indifferently in reply to Bobby's pleading. He and the other guards left without another word.

Bobby's shoulders shook and snot ran down over the side of his lips. Zeke frowned. "Our Bet got beat on the reg by this wet rag? Sheesh, I can hardly believe it!" He shook his head. He smirked in Hancock's direction. "Well, let's get these cuffs off him-"

"Leave them on." He said sharply. "This isn't about a fair fuckin' fight or some kind of noble bullshit. I want this little shitstain to feel every bit as helpless and afraid as he made my baby feel. He needs to feel just as trapped and just as goddamned humiliated."

"Hancock," Nick said in a warning voice. "Think for a moment about what you're doing. This isn't some raider or Brotherhood asshat."

Hancock's eyes flicked over to Nick. " _I know_." Valentine actually took a step back because the pure rage in his friend's voice was nearly a physical force in and of itself. He'd never heard the man become truly angry; annoyed, frustrated, and even a bit pissy, but never anything on this level.

"Wait!" Confused, they all turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Bet clambered unsteadily down from the mouth of the man-made cave and she panted heavily in an effort to catch her breath.

Hancock left Nick's side to go to her. "I told you to stay back in Goodneighbor." Like flipping a switch, he went from homicidal to gently chiding her. "Have you been following us this entire time?" He looked her over for any sign of harm, but she seemed to have done well on her own. A swell of pride rushed up in him and he gripped her shoulder. "How did ya manage sneaking behind us like that? Do you need anything?" He grabbed his pack and withdrew a canister of water to push into her hands. "I'd be upset if I weren't so goddamn impressed." He grinned at her, but the expression vanished without a trace when he read the somber look on her face.

"I snuck out not long after you left with Fahrenheit. Don't be mad at the Watch. I told them I was going to use the bathroom. I dropped by my place and got some road supplies before heading out, so I don't need anything. I only need you to just hear me out on this. At first, I wanted to cut you all off before you got here, but the time on my own made me realize something." She sighed and couldn't meet his eyes. "It's about time I finally face my own demons, John. If I'm strong enough now to take out raiders, Gunners, super mutants, and to track all of you guys halfway across the Commonwealth, then I'm fairly certain that I can handle this on my own." She was shaking a little and her breathing was coming in tiny gasps, but she closed her eyes before taking a deep breath to steady herself and she walked right up to where Bobby sat on his knees. She knelt beside him and looked him in the eye. Every instinct in her body wanted her to flee from him, despite the fact that he was handcuffed and surrounded by people who were very ready to kill him if he tried anything. Fear rolled in her gut, but she shoved it down, swallowed it and pretended it wasn't there. "I used to actually love you." She admitted, although the words left a bilious flavor on her tongue like the bitter aftertaste of vomit. "You twisted me up inside and used my love for you to make me hate myself. You took away everything that made me happy until all I knew was you." She gritted her teeth.

"Betty, I promise it'll be different if you tell your friends to let me go." He smiled at her. "They can't make you happy. Only I can make you happy."

"Don't call me that!" She snapped at him in a suddenly vicious outburst. Yet, she almost immediately forced herself to calm back down and tempered it down to a glare. "I hate that name. My name is Bet."

He shrugged weakly. "Sure, sure, whatever you want, but you're not really going to let them kill me. Are you, sweetie?" When he smiled, it was as slick as oil on ice. "Not after all the good times we had, right? Remember all those nights we spent talking about our future together?" Bet was silent and Bobby slid his gaze over her head to silently stare at Hancock with a hint of triumph. "You're not going to choose him over me, are you?" His words were honeyed poison.

Bet's eyes flew up to meet Bobby's and the words were out before she had the chance to think. "Him." Her voice grew stronger. "It'll always be him over anyone else, including you… _especially_ you. You have no place in my life and no right to steal my happiness anymore. This is the end of it, Bobby. _I'm_ ending it this time because _I_ don't need _you_ anymore. I love John because I may not need him, but I will always want him."

Bobby's deceitfully sweet tone changed in mere moments. "You bitch!" He lunged forward, but she hopped out of the way and he only succeeded in face-planting in the dirt. He writhed on the ground while she backed away with a disgusted expression. "I hope your cunt rots off, you dirty, ghoul-fucking, whore!"

She glanced at her friends and blinked before a smile slowly spread. "I've said my piece, so you guys can do whatever. I'll wait outside, though, because I'm feeling kind of nauseous." Her nerves were finally getting the better of her and she could feel her lunch attempting to make a second appearance.

Nick decided he didn't feel like bearing witness to whatever that sadistic glint in Hancock's eyes was hinting at. Danny and Travis followed suit, although Travis gave Hancock an encouraging thumbs-up. Surprisingly, Bluejay came out, too. He exited his power armor and put an arm around Bet. "You three mind if we have a private chat?" He asked politely.

He led Bet a little ways off, but only just out of earshot. He rubbed his face self-consciously and sighed. "I never got around to tellin' you what happened to my face, did I?" She shook her head.

The oldest Atom Cat smiled ruefully. "When I was a kid, my family's farm was attacked by raiders. They killed my parents, raped my oldest sister and then slit her throat. They said it was because my parents couldn't pay their monthly tribute, so they'd come to 'teach 'em' a lesson' and get their money back by selling me into slavery. Of course, I tried to run away, because I thought they'd just kill me if I got caught and I didn't much care if they did." He let out a slow breath. "Well, they caught me, but they didn't kill me. Instead, they carved up my face like a slab of Brahmin steak. I got away the second time I tried to run off, but the scars will always be here."

Horrified, she looked at him with sad eyes. "I…I..that's terrible. I'm so sorry that happened to you!"

He smiled a little and shrugged his shoulders. "It's all good. Yeah, it's sad, but I wouldn't be where I am now if it weren't for these scars." She stared at him with mild confusion and he chuckled. "I'm crap at this 'inspirational speech' kind of stuff. What I'm trying to say is that your scars don't define you; you define your scars. Those marks that piece of cockrust left on you are nothing to be embarrassed about."

"John…he told you…" She mumbled meekly.

Bluejay pursed his lips. "Well, technically, he told the Overseer, but we were all there, so…yeah, I guess. I just wanted to let you know that no one thinks less of you. I know you and I never really got the chance to talk a lot while you were in the garage, but you never struck me as a coward or a weakling. I don't know why you'd feel like that, but maybe that's a failing on our part. You're part of the Cats, Bet, and a couple of scars won't change that." He reached over and popped the collar of her leather jacket. "Do you think our guys are done with him yet?" He glanced back over toward Nick and the other two.

The pair rejoined them, but none of the others had come out of the cave yet. They couldn't hear anything, but none of them felt like going in there. "Nick…" The synth detective pinned her with a questioning stare. "Is it wrong…to…you know…feel nothing?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, doll." He knew exactly what she meant, but the point of the matter was that she'd said before that she wanted to face her demons. So, he was giving her the chance to face them and the best way to do that was to speak of them aloud.

Her gaze darted toward the cavern and back to him. "I don't care what happens to Bobby. It's not that I want him to die, but," She sighed heavily. "I don't really care if he does or he doesn't. Does that make me a bad person?"

Nick rolled his cigarette into the corner of his mouth. "No, it doesn't make you a bad person." He eyed her for a moment. "You know, doll, I'd like to think I'm a decent judge of character and I think you're a far sight from being a bad person. You've got your faults like anyone else, but you're not a bad person. Personally, I think you did the bravest thing I've seen in a long time." And then he tacked on as an afterthought. "Although, I don't think it was the smartest thing to follow us out here alone."

Upon being reminded of what she'd said to Bobby, she paled. "Oh no." She seemed stricken by a sudden apprehension.

Nick raised an eyebrow at her and she bit her lip. "I said I loved him." She squeaked in a mortified voice. "How do you think he'll take that?!"

Nick laughed and shook his head. "Did you mean it?" He asked, only mostly joking and, of course, she nodded. "Well, then why are you worried? If that man has half the sense I think he has, I don't believe he'd be less than thrilled." The detective's amber eyes had settled on the familiar, lanky form of the mayor striding out of the cave with his easy grin back in its usual place. He leaned against the mouth of the cave, unbeknownst to Bet, and smirked while she suffered through her unnecessary angst. Nick's eyes lingered on the blood spatters that marred Hancock's clothes and dotted his face.

The moment was ruined by Zeke clomping out with Johnny D. and Duke. They all seemed pretty satisfied with themselves. Travis spoke up. "Is he…you know…"

Zeke and Hancock both shared small grins. "He's mirelurk chum." Zeke announced proudly.

"He's dead, then." Bet said in a hollow voice.

"Oh yeah, very dead." Hancock nodded. "He's been pretty much pasted." He gazed at Zeke's power armor with admiration. "Damn, you know, I've really gotta get myself a set of power armor." Nick cleared his throat pointedly. Hancock had the presence of mind to look a little guilty. "So, ya feelin' okay or…"

She stared hard at the ground, lost in thought, but she was smiling when she finally looked up again. "You know, I think I'm good." She shook her head. "No, actually, I'm more than good. I haven't felt like this in a long time."

"Felt like what, exactly?" He asked.

She met his eyes with hope sparkling in her own. "Happy."


	8. Chapter 8

I apologize for taking such a long holiday break. Also, I am going to add a warning for this chapter because the reader should expect; a small amount of sexually-driven conversation, implied intercourse, and mentions of severe injury/death. Now, please feel free to enjoy the story.

Goodneighbor was in much the same state they'd left it in; a little dusty and rough around the edges, but still a close-knit community of outcasts. John was a bit put-out that Jack had still not woken up, but he had other, more personal matters to attend to.

He ushered Bet upstairs with Fahre not far behind. Fahre didn't appear to feel up to talking; her fatigue was smeared across her face, probably along with some long-dried flecks of Deluca's blood. To be honest, Hancock had to admit that all three of them were definitely worse for the wear. He, too, had the odd splotch of blood and, under that, his skin itched with the grainy sensation of dried perspiration. He wasn't entirely convinced that Bet had overworked herself; she had dark, heavy bags under her eyes, which were dull with exhaustion.

He shut the door to his lounge once Fahrenheit had left, locked it, and flopped down on the couch. "You and I need to talk." He stated bluntly as he slipped a single Mentat into his mouth. His typically took them three at a time, but he still, even after the encouragement, couldn't bring himself to take more around her. He was even debating giving up Jet entirely now that Deluca was permanently out of the picture. He didn't want her to mentally associate him with Bobby in the slightest of ways.

"John, about what I said-" She began hesitantly.

He held up a hand and she stopped. "Nope, just hear me out first, 'kay? Was it just a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing or is that _honestly_ how you feel?"

She bit her lip. "It's true, John. I'm sorry," She got up. "Maybe I mistook your friendship and kindness for something else and that's my fault. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I…I can just go."

He stared at her in absolute wonder and laughed to himself. "Goddamn it, woman, come here." He opened his arms wide to her. "Why the fuck would I be embarrassed? A gorgeous, badass woman tells her ex-asshole to go fuck himself because she wants me and I'm supposed to be embarrassed?"

She still hesitated. "I'm not badass." She protested.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you fuckin' are and you're the most goddamned beautiful woman I've ever seen. Now, get over here and kiss me or I'm going to go over there and kiss _you_." She made no move to close the distance, so he sighed and ran his hand under his tricorn. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear, sweetness." He wanted to say the words and badly, but they stuck to the roof of his mouth. Clearly, the Mentat hadn't started pulling its weight in the conversation yet. "It's you and me." He gestured back and forth between them. "This is all that matters and the rest of the world can go fuck itself for all I care." His mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, so full that he could only work his jaw around nonsensical noise. He begged her with his eyes to understand what he couldn't say, but her eyes were guarded and sad.

"John, maybe we shouldn't do this." She took a step back and her words stabbed through him. "We're amazing together as friends. I…I don't want to ruin that. I love you more than I've thought I could ever bring myself to love anyone. I want you more than anything or anyone, but I'm…just…" She was a coward, she knew that to the depths of her being. She knew John would never intentionally hurt her, but she was still quite terrified to take the plunge. She was petrified of failure. She was afraid to fail him, of all people, by forcing him to deal with her problems and her baggage. Her scars felt like they were lead weights burned into her skin that cursed her to shuffle uncomfortably through life. She didn't want him to feel obligated to share that burden.

"It's not me, it's you?" He managed a conniving grin, that looked more than a little wild and frantic. "Don't try to feed me that bullshit now, babe. If you didn't want this, I'd back off, but now I know I've just gotta sell it." He let a foreboding chuckle rumble through his chest. He stepped forward to negate her previous retreat. "I've spent my life running. I've got no problem running after you, if I have to." He smirked. "You wouldn't catch me complainin' about the view."

How could she possibly say something to counter that? "John, are you sure?" She hoped he was, but she wanted him to know that he had a way out. "I don't want to trap you."

"I've never felt freer." He snagged her by the waist and pulled her flush with him. "Gimme a chance, doll. I'm only askin' for tonight, but I promise I'll make ya beg for forever." And then he suddenly blinked and grinned. "Damn, I'll have to ask what the hell Fahre put in my last batch of Mentats because I swear I've never pulled a line like that before."

"It was pretty smooth, even for you." She agreed with a small smile. "So, just one night?"

He winked. "Yeah, no strings attached." His smirk turned devilish. "Unless, you're into the bondage thing." He pressed his hips lightly against hers. She tested her own limits by shyly copying his movement, which pulled an appreciative noise from his lips. "Fuck, are you lookin' to drive me feral?"

She backed away, embarrassed. "Sorry, should I stop?"

"Aw, shit." He pulled her to him again. "I didn't mean it that way, doll. It's just that we need to save the good stuff for when this whole thing with Jack blows over. Though, I've gotta admit I've been havin' more than my fair share of impure thoughts lately." His eyes raked over her body and an evil grin appeared. He smoothly undid the first three buttons of her shirt so that a tiny bit of cleavage was showing. He gently pulled out the hairband that was securing her ponytail so that her now moderately long hair fell to her shoulders in curly-cues. She'd allowed it to grow out in the months since leaving the vault. He picked up a particularly wild curl and let it run through his fingers. Without warning, he plunged both of his hands into the mass of curls. He seemed fascinated as he massaged her scalp. The texture of his fingers combing through her hair was pleasurable, but this seemed to be more for him than her. His breath was hot on her neck. "Some of those impure thoughts involve these cute little curls of yours."

"Oh, um.." She honestly couldn't think of what to say. She'd always found dirty talk a bit mortifying and the thought of being expected to be sexy back was slightly intimidating. However, she would do almost anything to appease John."What other thoughts did you have?" She did her best imitation of a coy pin-up girl's expression, which was remarkably awful.

He was nuzzling her neck now. "Just imaginin' how cute they'd look framing your face with my cum all over your lips."

She squeaked a little and hid her reddened face by tilting it away from his. "That's…erm…that sounds…messy. I…I mean, oh god, I don't know what I mean." She sighed while he had a laugh at her truly inept attempt. Perhaps, it was best to forgo the dirty talk.

He nipped a little just under her jaw. "You're too cute, stop it." He withdrew a little and smiled at her. He wasn't being wildly charismatic or mischievous; this smile was so sweet and genuine that it took her breath away. He truly looked content and happy simply to be there with her. There was a softness in his pitch-black eyes that was made from a heart-pounding mix of pent-up desire and deep-seated joy. One hand stayed wrapped in her hair while the other moved to her cheek. His thumb traced her lips and she kissed it. His eyes closed and he slowly met her lips. It was gentle and chaste, but held promise. He ended it with a flick of his tongue from her bottom lip to her upper lip. He made a frustrated growl deep in his throat, swung her around, and then pushed her up against the wall. "Thought I told ya to stop that."

She looked at him with surprise. "I'm not doing anything. I have no idea what you're talking about." This earned her a rather sharp pinch to the ass. "What was that you said about waiting until after-"

"You know, I really think that should go in the 'fuck it' bucket at this point." He purred in her ear.

The next morning, they were both woken abruptly by Fahrenheit pounding loudly at the door. Hancock groaned and opened one eye lazily. "Hold on, hold on!" Once they were both decent, he speedily walked to the door. Fahrenheit stepped into the room with an air of urgency and got right to the point of her visit. "Jack woke up."

Hancock's expression of drowsy irritation disappeared and the three of them soon found themselves taking the circular stairs two at a time. Bet, as per usual, stumbled several times, but they managed to make it to Amari's lab in decent time. Amari was waiting by the door anxiously and her face was pale, yet her mouth was set in a willful and determined line. She put a hand out to stop them entering the room. "He's been spouting nonsense and gibberish for the past half hour. Whatever happened to him has possibly shattered his mind." She warned gravely.

"NO!" Bet jumped as a familiar voice screamed shrilly from within the laboratory. "NO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! HE'LL COME FOR US ALL! HE'LL KILL US ALL!"

Amari sighed. "You see?"

Bet stepped closer to the doorway. "Have you tried asking him who 'he' is?"

Amari frowned at her out of annoyance. "Of course, I have! He just keeps saying the same insane things over and over."

"Did he say anything else, doc?" Hancock inquired respectfully. "Not tryin' to undermine ya or anythin', but maybe we just need to really think about what he's sayin'."

Obviously, the doctor doubted the sanity of her patient to the core of her being, but she kept any further protests to herself. She begrudgingly allowed them into the room to try to speak to Jack. Jack weakly grabbed Hancock's sleeve. "Mayor H-Hancock! You'll listen…you gotta listen to me!"

Hancock nodded solemnly. "I'm listenin', Jack. Just try to calm down, eh?" He glanced at Amari. "Can we give 'im a hit of Calm-X?"

Jack jerked at the material in his hand. "NO! No, I don't need anythin'! I need you to listen!" His eyes were wide with fear as he spoke. "He's coming, Hancock. He's coming for us all. He's coming for the ghouls. He wants us all. He's gonna take us all, cut us open to see our insides; he wants to know about us. He wants to know _why us_. He's gonna take over the Jewel. The greedy ones will listen and they will follow. The rest...they're doomed!"

"Who's coming, Jack?" Hancock calmly asked.

" _Him_." Jack said insistently. "The man in the golden crown. The man who tore me open!" He was shaking like a leaf caught in a breeze.

Amari wordlessly took over at this point, brandishing a syringe, and removed his hand from Hancock's person before sliding the needle into the panicked ghoul's arm and pushing down the plunger. "I tried to warn you." She said in an uncharacteristically sad tone of voice. "He's out of his mind." Jack's shouts and aggravated demeanor slowly calmed until he was finally staring blankly at the ceiling.

Hancock shook his head and there was a hard expression on his face. "No, he's not. I know exactly who he's talking about. There's only one 'man in a golden crown' that I know of." He gritted his teeth. "We need to warn Nora and Nick before Lorenzo gets his claws into Diamond City."

"Who the hell is 'Lorenzo'?" Fahre interjected. She'd remained in the shadow of the doorway and her face was ghoulishly lit by the cerise glow of her cigarette.

Hancock grimaced in distaste. "Nora and I took a job a while ago. We were supposed to retrieve a lost shipment of cargo for a man named Cabot. As it turns out, the shipment was a type of serum. Cabot and his entire family were ancient…pre-War and then some. The serum had prolonged their life somehow." He glanced around the room to find that everyone was staring at him in shock. "I know what you're thinkin'. How could someone live that long and not be a ghoul? But that's the truth. Cabot's father, Lorenzo, was the source of the serum. Ages ago, Lorenzo had discovered an artifact, that damnable crown, that changed both his body and his mind. His son concocted the serum from Lorenzo's blood. He tried to convince Nora that Lorenzo had lost his mind and I'd like to think she believed him until she made the mistake of talkin' to Lorenzo. She made up her mind that Cabot had been using Lorenzo like a parasite and freed him. We were there when Lorenzo massacred his entire family." Hancock swallowed hard as if he was trying to rid himself of the taste of something wretched. "Nora was convinced she did the right thing, but the whole thing never really sat right with me. Shoulda said something, but…damn." He shook his head.

"If you're at fault for it, then Nora is responsible, too." Fahre told him bluntly. "In any case, if we sit around playing the blame game and twiddling our thumbs, this 'Lorenzo' bastard will probably hurt more people." She sucked her smoke down almost to the filter and crushed it out into an ashtray that sat on the flat of the handrail. "So, I say we all go down to Diamond City, regardless of any bullshit they have against you two."

Bet made a confused noise. "That's another thing. Jack said that Lorenzo wanted ghouls, but why would he go to Diamond City if he wanted ghouls? Not only that, but Diamond City is the most well-defended settlement in Boston. Why wouldn't he challenge Goodneighbor first? Goodneighbor has a large ghoul population."

Amari's answer was chilling. "Why not convince those who are most ardent in their hatred to rise up against the ghouls?" All eyes were now on her. "If I were to hazard a guess, he may try to fan those flames and convince them to try to 'cleanse' other towns of ghouls. All under the guise of the 'greater good', of course. After all, if he truly is experimenting on ghouls, what better way to obtain ghoul bodies than to arouse ideas of genocide?"

Fahre let out a derisive snort. "Once Diamond City's under his thumb, he could probably try to contact the Brotherhood of Steel. They have pre-existing genocidal leanings. Hell, they'd probably set him up with his own sick little lab."

Bet's heartbeat quickened and she grabbed for John's hand. How many other people would lose loved ones if this maniac wasn't stopped? "We need to go see Kent." She watched her compatriots' faces collectively turn from grave to puzzled.

"Why? Did something like this happen in an issue of the Silver Shroud?" Fahre smirked around her cigarette. It wasn't that anyone hated Kent, but no one took him the least bit seriously.

"No, we can use his radio to get into contact with Nora. She always has her Pip-Boy's radio on. We can make a plan and prepare a surprise attack on Lorenzo." Bet adamantly stood behind her idea to use the radio, even while her friends remained reserved and mute. "Most of Diamond City wouldn't believe us if we try to explain it to them outright, so we have to plan around them. Heck, we might be able to figure something out with Danny. He's the gate guard; he might be able to sneak us in."

Amari cleared her throat. "Well, if you all are going to go planning attacks on lunatics wearing ridiculous headgear, I suggest you do it somewhere other than my lab." She swept them all outside without much in the way of politeness.

Hancock led the way up to Kent's tiny apartment and knocked on the door. "Hopefully, he's not in his lounger." He remarked as they waited.

Finally, after several long minutes, Kent cracked the door open. Once he saw who was at his door, he swung the door wide. "H-Hancock! Heya, glad to see that you're b-back." He smiled meekly around at his guests.

"Kent, Do ya mind if we use your station to send out a special broadcast?"

That was how the four of them ended up crammed into the apartment while Kent repeatedly adjusted and re-adjusted the microphone to ensure it was recording properly. He tapped it and it responded with a banshee screech that tapered down into static. "This is an urgent message for the Silver Shroud!" He paused for a moment and then resumed. "Again, this is an urgent message for the Silver Shroud. Shroud, company is coming. Show them your biggest jewel. Reply immediately if you copy."

"Do you think she'll understand?" Bet whispered as Kent repeated the short message a second time.

"If she doesn't, Valentine will figure it out." He susurrated. "They have a few hours to get it." Hancock wasn't as sure as he sounded. He didn't even know if Nora would believe Jack's story. He just had to hope that she'd consider the implications of Lorenzo being the culprit behind Jack's mutilation.


End file.
